


Essential Precautions

by barrylen



Series: unforeseen obstacles [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Barry, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Feels, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Pegging, People making stupid decisions, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, and by people I mostly mean Leonard, background F/F relationship, ignores Cicada and Eobard Thawne storylines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-01-06 12:24:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18388385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barrylen/pseuds/barrylen
Summary: With Leonard Snart alive and back in Central City, Nora makes it her personal mission to set him up with her parents.Leonard makes everything a little more complicated than it has to be.





	1. I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, surprise?
> 
> I can't believe I'm finally posting this! Third and final part of [unforeseen obstacles](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1168793), though I don't think you need to have read the first two parts to be able to follow this one.
> 
>  **Important:** if you dislike Iris or are only here for the Coldflash, you should probably give this fic a pass. There's gonna be a lot of Iris POV and Westallen.
> 
> The whole story consists of six chapters which are written and just need to be edited, and I'm aiming to post one chapter a week. 
> 
> With that said... hope you enjoy! ♥

Len scowls down at his phone before holding it back against his ear. “What do you mean, you’re already done with the job?”

On the other end of the line, Lisa sighs. In the background he can hear Mick’s “Told you he wouldn’t take it well,” and he curls his free hand into a fist. He should’ve anticipated that in his absence Lisa and Mick would grow closer, now thick as thieves. Literally. Even with Mick gone with the Legends more often than not.

All Len asks for is just for things to go back to the way they were. But apparently, that’s not possible anymore, and he doesn’t know how much of it is him who’s to blame for that.

“Look, Lenny,” she says, her voice sounding uncharacteristically serious, “I’m sorry, but—I just wanted to give you some time to adjust. You were dead. And you’ve changed a lot, _don’t_ even bother to deny it—” Len snaps his mouth shut “—so… maybe it’s time for a change of pace?”

“Speed puns. Hilarious,” he deadpans, but she just laughs.

“Glad you think so.”

He narrows his eyes when he spots a familiar figure coming down the road. This day just keeps getting better.

“I gotta go. We’ll talk about this later,” he says into the phone, hanging up before his sister can get another word in, and disappears back into the bar he’d left to take the call. Not a minute later, Nora—he still doesn’t know her last name, since there’s no records of her anywhere, and he makes a mental note to do some more research later that night—joins him at his booth, sliding into the seat opposite him.

“Hey,” she says, grinning like she knows something he doesn’t, and he gives her a measured look before answering.

“What are you doing here, kid? Do you understand the meaning of the word ‘done’?” He arches an eyebrow when she rolls her eyes. The kid sure has a pair on her. Well, figuratively. “You gave me the gun, I got the Young Rogues off the Flash’s back. The deal is _done_. I’m not exactly keen on being seen with a—what was it again? Some kind of baby cop?”

Young Rogues—he’d thought it was a joke when he heard the name for the first time, but no, it's an actual thing. And the baby criminals listened to him when he told them not to antagonize the Flash anymore, bless their hearts. Didn’t hurt that he has _connections_ to them. He definitely got the better end of the deal with Nora, but she doesn’t need to know that. Though he still needs to figure out what she has to do with the Flash, of all people.

“I have a feeling we’re gonna see a lot more of each other soon,” Nora mumbles but continues before he can ask, “I just need a tiny little favor?”

“Oi.”

She takes that as an invitation to continue.

“I just wanted to ask if by any chance you could get my phone number to, um,” she leans forward and whispers, “to one of the Young Rogues?”

He snorts. “That’s it?”

“Yep.”

Len leans back in his seat, unable to keep a smirk off his face. “Well, Nora. You’re in luck.”

He tilts his chin up in direction of a corner table at the other side of the room. The three girls are sitting there, no doubt scheming, crowded around a laptop. He’d tell them to take it somewhere more private, but it’s not like he’s responsible for them.

Nora takes one glance at them and whips back around, eyes wide. Len still can’t believe he let her convince him to take a heavily modified, advanced version of the cold gun she acquired god knows where. Weirdly enough she kind of reminds him of one Barry Allen.

“I can’t just go talk to them,” she hisses, “they’re criminals!”

“I’m a criminal,” Len says, “you’re talking to me.”

She barks a laugh like he’s made a joke, “Oh, you’re not a…” She trails off at his blank look. “Right, okay. What should I say?”

“Do I look like I give dating advice?”

She pouts but makes a sound of agreement, “Fair enough.”

“Now get out of my booth before I change my mind about shooting you,” Len drawls, satisfied when she finally scampers off.

Maybe he hasn’t completely lost his edge.

 

*

 

Planning against time is _hard_ , sometimes.

Despite her little, ah, _altercations_ with the timeline, Nora’s determined to have everything play out as close as possible to the way she only knows from stories her mom and her grandparents told her. Lenny’s always been a bit tight-lipped about everything, and she’s more than excited about seeing him in this time, in this timeline, even though he’s even more cynical than she knows him.

That’s one of the things she loves about him, though. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

But evidently, time is trying to pay her back for how she messed with it by coming here. She almost lost her mind when it was one week until Lenny and her dad were supposed to meet for the first time since Lenny was back from the dead, and she realized that he didn’t even have a cold gun yet (she didn’t spy on him, exactly; she was just doing some research, to cite the person in question).

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and so she snuck back into the Flash museum in her time to grab an outdated version of the cold gun from 2022, beyond relieved when he finally accepted the deal to take it in exchange for a small favor to make her dad’s life a bit easier. It was harder than she’d anticipated to get him to agree; the first time she tried to talk to him, he pulled a gun on her. An actual gun. Talk about being paranoid.

It hurts a little to see that he doesn’t look too happy about being back. Sure, he’s out a lot, spending weekend nights playing pool with his sister at the bars they frequent, sometimes even with Mick when he’s not jetting through time with the Legends. But the thing is—he always looks a bit lost. And Nora bets he hates not really knowing what his purpose is, anymore. Even if he’d never admit that.

She hopes that will change once he’ll meet her parents again. She’s under no qualms it’ll be as easy as that, but… she can’t help but notice that her parents look a little lost, too, sometimes. Like they feel that there’s a third person that’s supposed to be with them, like they’re holding their breaths for it to feel _right_ again.

Well, it shouldn’t be much longer until her parents know he’s not gone anymore.

And to be honest, that’s scary as hell.

 

*

 

Iris sighs and rubs her temples, reading over the article she’s writing for what feels like the hundredth time. Surprise, surprise, the few paragraphs she still needs to add still haven’t magically appeared in the open Word document. She can’t help but feel like the blinking cursor is laughing at her.

She looks up from her laptop at Nora, who’s passing her desk _again_ , her nervous energy no doubt a part of why Iris is so antsy.

“Nora, honey, I’m sorry but could you please stop pacing? I’m trying to finish this article.”

Nora stops short, and for a moment she blinks at Iris like she’s forgotten she’s not alone in the room. Then she plops down on the office couch, and Iris watches her fidget for a few more minutes out of the corner of her eye before closing her laptop.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

Nora’s head snaps up, “Wrong? Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Uh-huh,” Iris says. She pushes her chair away from the desk and gets up, taking Nora’s forgotten cup of tea with her, pushing it into her daughter’s hands as she sits down next to her. “Wanna try that again?”

Nora takes a sip of tea and exhales, fingers tapping nervously against the cup. She takes a deep breath, “If you knew something was gonna… _happen_ , and it’s dangerous, but it’s important that it happens, would you trust that it’ll happen the way it’s supposed to?”

Iris’s eyebrows shoot up. “I didn’t quite follow that. Is this about the meta from earlier?”

“Kind of.” Nora swallows, staring out of the window. “Dad might be in trouble.”

“And you’re worried if you go help him, the timeline is in danger?” Iris huffs a laugh when Nora gives her a shaky nod. “Even in more danger than before? ‘Cause, don’t get me wrong, but I think that might not be possible.”

“It’s not just that,” Nora says. Then she gets a faraway look on her face, and a second later she’s standing in the middle of the room, all suited up including her mask. “I’m just gonna—check on him. See if everything’s fine?”

Iris can barely get out a _Be careful_ before Nora’s flashed out of the room, and she leans back into the couch with a deep breath. She’s startled by the ringtone of her phone, furrowing her brow when she sees who’s calling.

“Yeah, Cisco?”

“Iris! I don’t wanna alarm you, but, uh, I think Barry needs some help down at the docks? He said he had it handled, but the meta is trying to make off with a truck full of explosives, and I’m pretty sure Barry got hit by one of the blasts and the signal just cut off and I still can’t breach—”

“Hey, hey, slow down.” Iris pinches the bridge of her nose. No way she’s finishing that article tonight. She might as well open a bottle of red and hope for the best. Sometimes she really, really hates not being able to help in the field. “Nora’s on her way.”

There’s a pause.

“What, already? Okay. Okay, I’ll keep you posted.”

“Thanks.” Iris hangs up and flings her phone into the throw pillows, counting her breaths until her heart rate has slowed down a bit. “Breathe. You got this. Barry and Nora are gonna be fine.”

Time to get to S.T.A.R. Labs.

 

*

 

Barry groans and pushes himself off the floor, swaying on the spot once he’s on his feet again. Everything hurts. The meta he’s fighting is a real piece of work—and not shy about using his nuclear-powered blasts with about a shipload of illegally acquired explosives lying around.

Tiredness is gnawing at him, and he feels weak, and god knows he’d be better off if he left now, but if there’s even a tiny chance he can stop this guy…

Barry grits his teeth and gathers up his strength and speeds in circles around the meta, trying to keep him contained for a little while, at least until reinforcements arrive. Where is Nora, anyway? Wasn’t Cisco supposed to reach out to her?

The guy’s throwing his blasts in every direction, so fast Barry can barely keep up, tired as he is. He knows a second before it happens that he’s going to get hit, and he tries to dodge at the last moment, but it’s futile. The blast hits him right in the chest and he soars through the air, just able to shield his head before he crashes into a brick wall and falls down to the floor, the dust making him cough.

He can’t move. He doesn’t know if it’s exhaustion, or if he’s too injured, but—

Another blast hits the wall just inches above him, and pieces of brick crash down around him. It’s a miracle that none hit him.

“That’s what you get for messing with the wrong people, Flash!” The voice is getting closer, and Barry needs to get out of there but he _still can’t move_ — “I’m a little disappointed, you’re even more pathetic than I imagined.”

Barry can see out of the corner of his eye that the guy steps up to him and raises his hands to deliver another blast, and Barry can barely breathe, vision blurry, and he’s so dizzy, and he knows that unless he gets help in the next two seconds, he’s probably not getting out of there in one piece.

He squeezes his eyes shut, stomach roiling.

But the blast doesn’t come. Even though everything is hazy, he can hear some kind of weapon charging up, and then there’s a bright light, followed by a scream.

And then it’s only silence.

 

*

 

Barry comes to slowly, not actually sure if he’s alive at first.

He’s lying on something soft. A couch?

A minute after he wakes up he feels strong enough to crack his eyes open. It doesn’t look like S.T.A.R. Labs, more like… a warehouse. Or an old, abandoned office building.

Oh, crap.

The spark of anxiety in his stomach fades when he realizes that he’s not tied up and that there aren’t any people pointing weapons at him, so that’s a good sign at least. Though he probably wouldn’t be able to flee or defend himself anyway, in the state he’s in.

He passes out again, feeling a lot more energized the next time he wakes up. The first thing he sees is two big eyes that are blinking down at him.

“Nora?”

“You okay, Dad?” she whispers, a worried look on her face behind her mask as she crouches before him. She looks nervously around.

Barry furrows his brow. “I think so. Can you get me to S.T.A.R. Labs?”

She huffs. “I can try.”

“Wait, what happened to that meta?”

“Oh, uhh,” she says, looking a little sheepish. “He’s at CCPD with a serious case of frostb—”

She’s cut off by the sound of a weapon charging up again, sounding just like down at the docks. Nora jumps quickly to her feet and holds her hands out placatingly to whoever’s standing behind the couch.

“Who the hell’re you?”

Barry’s eyes widen, stomach giving a lurch so violent that he’s certain he’s about to throw up. That voice—

“A friend,” Nora says. She lowers her hands and raises her gaze to the ceiling, exasperated and apparently not the least bit worried about getting shot. Which is totally not fitting for the situation they’re in. Barry’s gonna need to have a word with her as soon as they’re home.

“Dad, could you please tell him to stop pointing his gun at me?”

“Um.” Barry braces himself up into a sitting position and peeks over the back of the couch, swallowing thickly when he sees Snart standing a few feet away from them, in the process of lowering his cold gun, though his eyes are still sharp. Barry narrows his eyes as he sees the gun—didn’t it look different before? Bigger?

But he can’t think of that right now. It’s _Snart_. Right in front of him. Looking like he never left.

“‘Dad’?” Snart asks, voice dry.

“Um,” Barry repeats, not really able to speak just yet. His brain is too preoccupied with taking in Snart’s appearance. He’s wearing the parka, which he must have gotten from S.T.A.R. Labs, since they’d still had it stowed away there. (Jesus, how long has he been back?) His dark jeans and boots fit him so well, as well as the thigh holster Barry likes so much—

Nora clears her throat, giving him a pointed look when his gaze snaps to her. He can tell she’s trying not to laugh. He licks his lips and shifts in his seat, wincing when his ribs twinge.

“How are you here?” Barry’s voice isn’t much louder than a whisper, but it’s clear in the silent warehouse.

“Long story.”

“Right.” The ever-evasive Leonard Snart. How could Barry forget. “We need to get to S.T.A.R. Labs. D’you wanna come, to talk?”

Snart quirks an eyebrow, then huffs a bothered sigh and makes a show of checking his watch.

“Please?”

“ _Fine_. But I’m taking my bike, not hitching a ride with… pocket-sized Flash, here.”

It’s clearly meant to be insulting, but Nora beams all the same. Snart rolls his eyes, turns on the spot and walks out of the room. Barry’s sure he’s gaping after him like an idiot. He turns to Nora, eyes wide.

“Is that really him?”

“Yep,” she says.

“How’d he know I was in trouble? Why’d he bring me here?”

“I don’t know? Ask him. Maybe you looked like you needed a nap.”

“Ha.” Barry coughs, and it’s suddenly getting real hard to keep his eyes open. “What was that about hitching a ride?”

Nora rolls her eyes, not unlike Snart had earlier. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, old man,” she says and helps him stand up, giggling when he protests at being called _old man_.

 

*

 

Barry can’t stop staring at the clock on the wall.

His friends deposited him on a bed in the med room as soon as he and Nora made it to S.T.A.R. Labs, and now he’s slowly but steadily healing with several IV-bags worth of nutrients making their way into his blood stream. He jumps a little when he feels a hand on his arm, smiling when he sees that it’s Iris.

“Hey, babe,” she says. “You had me a little scared today.”

He hums, “It was a little scary. How’s Nora doing?”

“Currently inhaling a bag of cheetos in the cortex.”

Barry snorts and holds out his arm, and Iris takes the hint and climbs onto the bed next to him, snuggling into his side, laying her head down on his chest. He glances at the clock again, out of habit, then clenches his jaw when he remembers what he was waiting for. He sighs, then squeezes his eyes shut.

“He’s not coming, is he?”

Iris pats his stomach and presses her cheek against his chest. “I guess not. Maybe something came up.”

Or maybe it was stupid of Barry to think Snart’d just come and talk to them, like nothing had happened. Like they’re friends. Aren’t they, in some ways? Or maybe they were, before the whole Legends debacle. Before Barry made him sacrifice himself—

“Stop thinking so much,” Iris murmurs. “He’s back, Barry. He’s _alive_. He saved you today. That has to count for something, right?”

Barry takes a deep breath, grateful that his ribs are pretty much healed by now. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s just—I missed him.”

He swallows thickly, not quite able to look at Iris. But she just squeezes his hand in reassurance and tilts her head up so she can kiss his cheek.

“I know, honey. I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked the beginning. Comments and kudos make my day. ♥
> 
> Check out the aesthetic/tumblr post [here](https://barrylen.tumblr.com/post/184162792255/essential-precautions-by-barrylen-pairing-ot3) :D


	2. II.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update since I'm on the road this weekend :)
> 
> If you want to skip the smut, check the end notes.*

It’s something else, the way Iris looks like this, bare chest heaving and head thrown back, strands of hair escaping the bun on top of her head, small beads of sweat running down the side of her neck.

“Mm, I have to say— _oh_ —getting up early was a really good idea,” she says, and Barry has to huff a laugh when he experimentally vibrates his fingers for a short moment and she knocks over a few bottles of hair product on the bathroom counter, whining and tilting up her hips, playfully hitting his side with her foot.

He catches her leg before she can kick at him again and licks his lips, spreading her open further, flicking her clit with his thumb while he fucks her slowly with two fingers.

“God, Barry, you’ve been at this for ages, just fucking make me c— _ohmygod_ —”

She slaps a hand over her mouth to muffle her moans as he vibrates his fingers, thrusting them into her hard and fast, and he bites down on his lip when her whole body tenses up before it lets loose, clenching around his fingers.

“Fuck, Iris…”

“Yeah,” she breathes, and he finally lets go of her leg, pressing a kiss to her knee.

He pulls his fingers out and holds her gaze while he licks them clean one by one, and then she’s laughing and pulling him in for a kiss, tongue slipping into his mouth, not shy about tasting herself.

“Lemme get you off,” she says and adjusts her seat on the counter next to the sink, pulling him between her legs. His underwear is soaked through when she peels them off, and she gives him a mischievous look when she wraps her hand around his cock, precome easing her strokes.

He exhales roughly and bumps their foreheads together, and it doesn’t take long before he comes over her hand.

“Well,” Barry says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out croaky, “I think we need a shower.”

Iris laughs and grabs a couple of wet wipes from the shelf next to her, cleaning up the worst of the mess between them.

They both jump when Barry’s phone goes off. He picks it off the shelf, frowning at the display, then shows it to Iris.

“Meta-human alert.”

Iris sighs, “Not a moment too soon. I’ll be at S.T.A.R. Labs later, all right? Be careful.”

Barry smiles. “Yeah, ‘course. Love you!” He smacks a kiss on her cheek and pops under the shower for a few seconds—the water never gets hot when he does this, dammit—and grabs a clean pair of underwear before jumping into the suit, speeding toward the coordinates his phone showed him.

The first thing he thinks when he arrives at the scene is… there is no metahuman. He cases the road in a second, scoffing to himself—it’s Snart. With his sister and Mick Rory.

(Barry didn’t even know Mick’s staying in Central at the moment, but that’s beside the point.)

It reminds him of the first time he’d stopped Snart. And wow, what a way to get back into the game. They’re surrounding an armoured car, its tires blown, the two guards inside looking scared but not hurt. At least something. Barry clenches his jaw and grabs Snart before any of them can see he’s joined the party, speeding them into an abandoned alley a few blocks down.

“Seriously? A metahuman alert?” At this time of day, no less.

Snart sways a little before he finds his footing, a fact that Barry feels just a little smug about. The smugness doesn’t last long enough to enjoy it, though.

“Nice of you to come out to play,” Snart drawls and unholsters his cold gun. Barry puts his hands on his hips, unimpressed.

“So eager to get caught?” He can’t help but sound a little bitter when he adds, “Why didn’t you show up the other night?”

Snart shrugs in that dramatic way of his. “Changed my mind.”

“Right.”

Barry would have appreciated a little heads-up, that’s all. He was half convinced that Snart’d changed his ways, saving him from that nuclear meta. Saving his _life_. But his time with the Legends including self-sacrifice—and god, doesn’t that still hurt to think about—obviously wasn’t enough to get him on a completely different track.

Which would be fine, theoretically, if there wasn’t bound to be collateral damage. And there always is, isn’t there?

Barry huffs at Snart’s smirk, irritated and a little charmed despite himself.

“You said you wouldn’t involve innocents.”

Snart chuckles, takes a step closer. Barry does his best to not take a step back. He wouldn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I said no innocents would _die_. There’s a difference,” Snart says, tone almost bored. “And if I were you, I’d take me back to the truck, ‘cause if I’m gone for more than two minutes Mick will set it on fire no matter if the guards are still in there or not.” He takes a step closer, eyes flitting down Barry’s form. “And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Barry swallows thickly. What choice does he have, still not able to figure out if he’s bluffing or not? Seriously, there should have been a criminology class in Snart-English, English-Snart. Would’ve made his life a lot easier. But since he didn’t have that in college—

He lets out a frustrated growl and flashes them back to the truck, setting Snart down next to his sister. Mick really does look like he’s about to set something on fire. Just to be sure, Barry gets the guards out of the car and deposits them at the nearest hospital. In two seconds he’s back at the scene, breathing a sigh of relief when his earpiece crackles and Caitlin’s voice sounds through it. He always feels safer when there’s someone on the other end of the line.

“Barry, is everything okay?”

“Fine,” Barry says, trying to devise a way to get this best over with. Let them go? That doesn’t sit right with him. But he can’t quite stop them either, can he? He and Snart still have a deal, after all.

He almost laughs when he thinks of the deal.

Ridiculous, that’s what it is. Anyone else would’ve already been tied up and left for the cops to collect, and the only thing stopping Barry from doing just that to the three is… his soft spot for Snart? Whatever. He can’t even pretend it’s all about preserving his secret identity anymore, can he?

With too many thoughts in his head at the same time, Barry notices a moment too late that something is wrong. His body’s slowing down against his will, and in a moment of panic he finds purchase on the side of the armoured truck before he can’t help but stop moving.

Fuck, the air is _freezing_.

“Barry, what’s wrong? I’m getting some really weird vital stats, here.” Caitlin sounds worried.

Barry’s teeth are shattering. “C-cold.”

“That’s right,” says Snart’s voice next to him, and Barry forces his eyes open, not remembering that he closed them. His gaze drops from Snart’s face (how can someone look both infuriating and attractive, it’s not _fair_ ) down to the new cold gun, which is emitting a soft blue glow, hissing quietly as the air around Barry grows colder and colder.

Snart seems to be unaffected.

“Like my new cold field? Mean piece of technology.”

Barry would roll his eyes if he had the energy to. Caitlin is yelling something into his ear, but he can’t make out the words.

“W-why are y-y-you doing this?” Barry hisses out between his teeth, trying desperately to remember if his new suit has thermal-threading like the old one. If not… he doesn’t want to think about that.

Snart’s stepping closer, “It’s what I do, remember? Now, I want you to listen to me carefully…” He raises the gun and presses it against Barry’s chest, a dangerous expression on his face, and for a moment Barry only sees that man in the theater five years ago, shooting wildly at people to prove a point, not giving a damn about who he could hurt.

The burn of the ice-cold muzzle of the gun on his chest is no match for the way that reminder hurts inside Barry.

“Don’t ever try to appeal to my good nature again, _Flash_ ,” Snart says, voice low and angry, “you wouldn’t like the outcome.”

And then he turns around and leaves without another glance back at Barry, disappearing behind the truck. Barry can hear the engines of bikes starting up and fading as they gain distance from him, but he’s still so cold that he can barely think.

So cold.

So…

 

*

 

“Well, that was a complete bust.” Lisa drops down next to Len on the couch, jostling him in the process. He scowls at her, then closes the magazine he’s been flicking through.

“What are you talking about? We got the cash, the getaway was clean, what more do you want?”

She snorts and drops her feet on the coffee table, but not before she grabs his bottle of beer and empties half of it. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother complaining—she’s not afraid to pull the _you left without saying goodbye and then you died, you asshole!_ card, as he’s found out. Multiple times.

“Then why do you look like someone pissed in your coffee this morning?” She snatches the magazine from his hands, and he takes a deep breath, getting up to get another bottle of beer from the tiny fridge of their dingy safe house.

“Don’t be crude,” he says and opens the bottle. He leans back against the counter of the small built-in kitchen.

He knows Lisa has a point, not that he’d ever admit that to her. The main goal of the robbery that morning wasn’t to get the cash, though that’s a nice bonus for sure. The main goal was to, well… to re-establish prior _power relations_. But it turns out that trying to turn things back to the way they were before he left to travel through time, before he’d even known the Flash’s identity, isn’t as fun as he thought it’d be.

In fact, it wasn’t fun at all. He can’t get the way Barry looked out of his head, so shocked when he realized what Len was doing, but even worse than that was the look in his eyes. Like he was genuinely hurt, genuinely disappointed by him when he shouldn’t have been surprised at all. One of these days, Barry’s undying faith in people is going to get him killed.

His sister’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts.

“Hey, Lenny?”

“ _What_.”

Lisa puts down the magazine and gives him a contemplative look. Then her mouth broadens into a smug grin. That can’t be good.

“When was the last time you got laid?”

He almost chokes on his beer, and of course Lisa notices, the brat, pressing her lips together to keep a laugh at bay.

“That’s none of your damn business,” he snaps and turns around so he’s facing the counter, then sets his beer down with a harsh thump and starts on the dirty dishes. God, it’s almost like he’s back on the Waverider. Damn gossips.

“That long, huh?” She’s gotten up and grabbed a dishtowel, swatting him with it. He briefly considers powering up the cold gun. “Don’t worry, I ain’t judging.”

“Lise?”

“Yep?”

“Just… shut up.”

She laughs but finally keeps her thoughts to herself, accepting the dishes Len hands her to dry. Despite everything, he’s really missed this, the simplicity of it all.

In the back of his mind, he can’t let go of the thought that he might have made a big mistake going after Barry that morning.

 

*

 

Barry wakes to the steady beeping of a heart monitor.

He can move his toes. That’s good.

“Honey?”

He smiles, blinking against the light when he opens his eyes.

“Hey, Iris,” he says, slowly turning his head so he can look at where she’s sitting next to his bed in the med room, and she grasps for his hand. “We gotta stop meeting like this.”

She makes a sound between a snort and a sob, and it makes his heart clench in his chest.

“I’m gonna kill him,” she whispers, “I’m actually going to kill him.”

“I don’t…” Barry trails off and shakes his head, staring at the far wall. “I don’t understand.”

It’s all he can say. It’s all he can _think_ , at the moment. Iris stays quiet, periodically squeezing his hand like she needs to make sure he’s still there. After a while, she sighs.

“When you’re all healed up, I think Nora needs some quality father-daughter time.”

Barry furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“She was the one to bring you back here. Caitlin called her to get you, thank god, but I think she had a little panic attack earlier. Wouldn’t let go of me for an hour.”

“Ah, shit,” Barry says. Poor girl. She doesn’t talk about Leonard much, not at all really, but every time someone mentions him, she lights up like a child on Christmas morning. She obviously loves him a lot, and seeing what he’s capable of like this has to be hard on her.

“Yeah,” Iris breathes and squeezes his hand one more time before getting up. “I’m gonna go make coffee.”

 

*

 

Barry slides onto one of the chairs next to Nora in the S.T.A.R. Labs lounge, cradling his cup of coffee as he sets it down on the counter. Nora gives him a small smile, then turns back to scribbling into her journal. One of these days he’s gonna get her to teach him that time language she’s using.

“You okay?” he asks, and she shrugs, closing the journal with a thud.

“Sure,” she says. Then she gets a pained expression on her face, eyebrows drawing together, and she shakes her head. “No, no, I’m not. Look, I’m sorry about Lenny.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She chews on her lip, staring down at the sleek surface of the counter. “I might’ve. I just… I thought it’d be easier.” She shrugs with a self-deprecating smile and grabs the book, then speeds out onto the balcony.

Barry huffs and gets up to follow her, taking a sip of his coffee when he leans against the railing next to her. He reaches out to pat her shoulder.

“That’s just how he is, sometimes,” he says. “It’s not a big deal.” It kind of is.

Nora doesn’t seem to be convinced, either. “Hm.”

“He couldn’t have known there’s no thermal-threading in the new suit.”

Nora scoffs, “Couldn’t he? If I recall correctly, he’s never fought you wearing that suit before.” She pauses, and to Barry’s horror, her eyes fill with tears.

“Nora—”

“I gave him that cold gun,” she blurts and a sob escapes her, pressing a hand to her mouth. “I brought it with me from the future. I’m so sorry—”

Jesus christ.

Barry tamps down on his exasperation and puts the cup aside to hug her, not able to suppress a smile when she buries her face in his sweater. The smile fades quickly when he realizes that somehow Nora must’ve gotten the gun to Snart, that she might have been in grave danger without them even knowing about it. That something could’ve happened to her, and they wouldn’t have been able to help.

Fuck. Just the thought makes him want to punch something.

“Don’t think we’re not gonna have a talk with your mom about the gun later,” he says, working on keeping his voice steady, “but you didn’t make him rob that transport. You didn’t make him use that fancy cold field on me. That’s on him, all right?”

Nora just nods and sniffles, probably getting snot all over his shirt, and Barry lets out a deep breath, rubbing her back. Parenting really is hard sometimes.

 

*

 

Barry assured Iris that he was fine after they’d finished dinner with Nora, but panic attacks seem to run in the family. She sighs and runs a cloth under cold water, then hurries back into their bedroom, crouching down next to Barry and pressing it to his forehead.

“Better?”

He takes a deep breath and nods and takes the cloth into his own hand so that Iris can sit down on the floor next to him, back pressed against the wall.

She woke up not twenty minutes ago with the feeling that something was wrong before seeing that Barry wasn’t in bed anymore. She found him cowering in a corner next to the closet, desperately trying to get his breathing under control. He probably didn’t want to wake her after having a nightmare and got out of bed when he felt like he was gonna panic.

Which they’re definitely going to have a word about later, because she knows how much panic attacks suck and how much it helps Barry to have someone there to help him through it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Iris furrows her eyebrows, “Barry, you don’t need to apologize for things like this.” He only gives her a sceptical sound in reply, but she lets it slide. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I just…” He shrugs and bumps his head against the wall. “I killed him, didn’t I?”

She tenses. “What?”

“Snart. _Leonard_. I was the one to convince him to be better, remember? I was the one who recruited him in Siberia and brought him back there knowing that he was gonna die—” His breath hitches, and Iris takes the cloth out of his hand, brushing away a tear on his face. Her heart hurts.

“He became a Legend of his own volition, Barry, okay? He didn’t sacrifice himself for you, but for Mick and the others,” Iris says, voice quiet. She wets her lips and puts the cloth away, taking Barry’s hands into hers. “It’s not your fault he’s acting like this. He’s probably just trying to distance himself.”

Barry looks at her. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she says, “from what I know, he’s not someone who likes to show his feelings, or be close to people, right? I just think he… uh, let himself thaw around you.” He hiccups a laugh at the pun, and she smiles. “And now he’s, I don’t know, trying to prove that he’s still your enemy? But I doubt it’s because he blames you for anything, Barry. If he really didn’t care, you’d…”

She trails off, but Barry knows exactly what she was gonna say.

“I’d probably be dead,” he says softly. “Yeah. Maybe. I guess we'll just have to take it slow.”

“Yeah.” Iris sighs and lets go of his hands, patting his thigh. “Come on. Let’s get back to bed, okay?”

“Hey, Iris?”

“Mm-hm?”

“I love you.”

She huffs a laugh and leans in to kiss his temple. “I love you, too.”

 

*

 

For all that she lectured Nora about not visiting dangerous parts of town without backup or not telling anyone where she went, Iris knows she isn’t much better. She takes a deep breath before pushing the door to the bar open, her gun a reassuring weight against her hip under her jacket. She doubts it’d be of much use if someone here really wanted to hurt her but it makes her feel a little safer nonetheless.

The person she’s looking for seems to have spotted her before she spots him—when her eyes find Snart, tucked away at a corner table, his gaze is already on her.

“Miss West,” he drawls when she reaches the table, “Cute getup.”

He makes a show of looking her up and down, no doubt to unsettle her, but she refuses to get flustered. Cute getup, _please_. She went for dark jeans, boots and a hoodie, and topped it off with Barry’s leather jacket that he never wears.

Best to be as inconspicuous as possible on criminal turf, right?

“Snart,” she says as she sits down on the chair opposite him. “It’s West-Allen.”

“Right. Must’ve slipped my mind.”

Somehow, Iris doubts that. She gives him an unimpressed look and orders a beer when the waitress shows up.

“So, what brings you here?” Snart asks after her beer arrives, hand curling around his glass of whiskey. She tears her gaze away from his fingers.

“You hurt my husband. I’m here to make sure it won’t happen again.”

She’s almost startled when he laughs.

“ _Please_. Don’t tell me he’s not able to handle when for once he’s not fast enough to stop a simple robbery. Tough luck, when there’s someone smarter—”

Iris brings her palm down on the table, loud enough for the waitress to shoot her a scathing look. She doesn’t care. She just wants to wipe the smug look off Snart’s face, one way or another.

“He almost _died_ out there yesterday, Snart,” she hisses.

Snart narrows his eyes. “No way. His suit—”

“Is new, wasn’t made by Cisco Ramon, and thus isn’t equipped to deal with temperatures that extreme!” She takes a deep breath when she realizes she’s raised her voice, continuing more quietly, “He was unresponsive. I don’t know what we would’ve done if our d— If we didn’t have another speedster on our team at the moment. I don’t know if we would’ve made it there in time. Just, Snart… I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go after him like that again.”

Snart hums and leans back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the wood of the tabletop.

“Then what do you suggest I do, hm? Stop doing what I do best? Pretend to be an upstanding citizen?”

As if ‘doing what he does best’ includes going after the Flash on a daily basis. It’s like he’s trying to convince himself he hasn’t changed.

“I think you should apologize.” She expects the snort from him, but it still drives her up the wall.

Different tactic, then. Iris gulps down some of her beer, thinking it over. Barry probably wouldn’t appreciate her telling Snart about this, but what the hell. It’s not like he won’t find out sooner or later, if they’re bound to… have a relationship with him, provided that Nora’s timeline is still intact. It’s still a thought she needs to wrap her head around, with him sitting in front of her like that, gloating about hurting her husband.

She leans forward, folds her hands on the table.

“You know he blames himself for your death?”

Snart stops tapping his fingers.

“He thinks he’s the reason you died. ‘Cause he convinced you to be better.”

He sighs, “You can tell him that my world doesn’t revolve around what some goody two-shoes superhero thinks of me.”

“Doesn’t it, though?”

He clenches his jaw, looking like he’s getting a little angry, eyes anywhere but on her. Iris purses her lips to stifle a smile.

“Look, Leonard.” His gaze snaps up to her face. She’s astounded by the intensity of it, his deep blue eyes glinting in the dim light inside the bar. “I’m sure it wasn’t just Barry who made you set foot on that ship. I bet you had some kind of ulterior motive, right?” He huffs. She gonna take that as a yes. “But I’m guessing you started caring about those people, in whatever way you’re able to care about anything. And you _saved_ them.”

She exhales, in awe that he’s still listening, eyes still intent on her, and she’s glad that she’s not an ice statue (yet), “You really do care, don't you? About them, about _Barry_. Don’t you think he deserves to know that?”

“Listen—” he starts, but she cuts him off with the wave of a hand. She isn’t finished, and if she doesn’t say this now, god knows if she ever will.

“Whatever you were trying to achieve with that stunt yesterday… he’s not upset with you, you know? He’s upset with himself. He’s _suffering_. So, well done.”

Snart is quiet for a long time. So long that Iris has half a mind to get up and leave, but before she can make that decision, he clears his throat.

“You seem to think you know a lot about me.”

She huffs a laugh and shakes her head. “Not at all. I’m just putting the pieces together.”

“Well,” he pushes his glass away, still a couple of fingers of the dark liquid in it, “this has been… enlightening. Thank you for that fascinating insight.”

He gives her a patronizing smile that makes her want to punch him, or push him against a wall and—

 _Anyway_.

He gets up, looking at her for a moment longer before turning on his heels and exiting the bar. Iris sighs.

“That went well,” she mutters to herself and takes his glass, shrugging before she swallows down the rest of his drink. She’s damned well earned it.

 

*

 

Barry is in front of the kitchen sink washing the dishes when he hears the front door fall shut.

“Hey, you’re home early,” he says without looking up, speeding through cleaning the dishes and starting on drying them.

A glass nearly slips out of his hand, making a harsh sound as it bumps against the counter, when out of the corner of his eye he doesn’t see Iris walking toward him, but someone very much not Iris-shaped. He swallows.

“What are you doing here?” He sets the glass down and turns around, watching as Snart stops in front of the kitchen isle, looking around with mild interest. Barry doesn’t believe for a second that this is the first time he’s been in their loft, not if he’s been back for several weeks.

“Your wife seems to think I need to apologize,” Snart says, tone deliberately nonchalant.

Barry’s eyebrows shoot up. Iris went to see Snart?

“Oh? You don’t look like you wanna apologize.” Barry huffs a laugh when Snart glares at him. He wonders when the hell it happened that he stopped being intimidated by him, at least in settings where they’re not wearing their costumes. But the amusement dwindles when he thinks of the last time they saw each other. “Why did you do it?”

The clench of Snart’s jaw tells him that he knows exactly what he’s talking about.

“It’s what I _do_. I hurt people and I betray them, remember?”

“Bullshit.” Barry swallows hard when for the first time since Snart entered his home, he looks like he’s ready to shoot his way out of there, if necessary. “I’m still sore from that cold field, you know. My healing slows when I get frostbite.”

Just like that, Snart’s grim mask falls, a tiny spark of emotion shining through before his expression turns into one of indifference. Barry exhales. He averts his eyes, runs his foot over a small crack in the floorboards.

“I thought we had an understanding,” Barry says. “You know, since we worked together to steal the Dominator tech.” The chuckle from Snart makes him look up from the floor. “What?”

“You mean…” Snart taps his fingers on the countertop of the kitchen isle. “That same time we worked together where you dropped me back off in the 19th century, knowing that I was going to meet my untimely demise?” Barry can’t help but flinch. “Not even a hint? I knew something was wrong, but I only figured it all out when…” He mimes an explosion with his hands and grins wryly.

Barry swears he feels something break inside of him. “Snart, I—”

“You shouldn’t take credit for other people’s _heroic_ deeds, you know. It’s rude.” Snart’s tone is casual like he’s talking about the weather, but he isn’t meeting Barry’s eyes, and Barry knows that it’s his way of saying that it was his own decision. No outside influence that pushed him to sacrifice himself.

That might not necessarily be the whole truth, but Barry concedes with a nod. He wonders what exactly Iris told him. The silence stretches on too long to not be uncomfortable, and Barry clears his throat.

“You know when they told me you where gone? Six whole months after it happened. It was awful. Not only cause— but also because nobody thought of telling me. Nobody.” Whoops—he doesn’t know where that came from.

Just a minute ago Snart looked ready to crack a joke, but he’s visibly uncomfortable now. “Why do you care so much? I’m just some crook to you.”

Barry sighs and turns away to dry the rest of the dishes. “You’re not ‘just’ anything to me.”

“Barry,” Snart says, and Barry closes his eyes at how much he’d missed his voice say his name, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make me into something I’m not.”

Barry shakes his head and puts the last plate into the cupboard.

“You don’t get to tell me how I feel about you.”

He freezes as soon as he realizes how the words sounded. Ah, crap. So much for taking it slow to not scare him off. There’s a pause, and Barry doesn’t dare move a muscle. He almost thinks that Snart left the apartment when he speaks again, voice suddenly so close that it makes Barry jump a little.

“Who was that girl the other night? Mini Flash?”

Way to change the topic. Barry glances at him. Snart’s leaning against the counter next to the sink, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Nora,” Barry says, smiling a little. He doesn’t see the point in evading the question. Snart would find out on his own sooner or later, anyway. He’s crafty like that. “She’s Iris’s and my daughter. She… came here from the future.”

Snart looks exasperated, if not particularly surprised. He presses a hand to his temple as if running mental calculations.

“Of course she did,” he says eventually, then straightens up. “I have to go.”

Barry clenches his fists to stop himself from begging him to stay, or worse, reaching out for him. He does follow Snart to the door, though.

“Hey, Leonard?”

Snart stops short with his hand on the door handle, staring at the door in front of him. “Mh?”

“Why’d you take me to that warehouse the other night?”

Snart huffs, “You looked like you needed a nap.”

Barry raises his gaze to the ceiling. Dammit, Nora. But then Snart speaks again, quieter than before.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” His gaze darts to Barry, then quickly away when he sees that Barry is watching him. “About everything.”

Barry stares at the door for a long time after it closes behind Snart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Skip the first few paragraphs of the chapter and start reading at "“Well,” Barry says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out croaky..."
> 
> Thank you for reading! ♥


	3. III.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know possible triggers for this chapter (nothing major) and/or if you want to skip the porn, check the end notes.

“Hey, Mom!”

Nora bursts into Iris’s office in a flash of light and Iris startles—she should be used to that by now, shouldn’t she?—and rubs her forehead when Nora stops in front of her desk and dozens of pieces of paper fly to the floor around her. She makes a mental note to invest in paper weights.

“Hey, Nora,” she says and closes her laptop, because she already knows she’s not getting any writing done for at least the next two hours. Nora looks like she’s on a mission, practically brimming with excitement. “What’re you up to?”

“I thought we could go to Jitters,” Nora says, “Did you know they have an XS drink now? Super schway!”

“Oooh, yes, in that case we definitely need to go.” Iris gets up to grab her purse and jacket, ruffling Nora’s hair and laughing when she bats her hands away. “That’s amazing, honey.”

Nora beams and links her arm with hers, pulling her toward the door, and for a moment she can barely breathe with how much she loves her. Even though she’s pretty sure Nora is scheming at least half of the time she’s around any of them. But Iris can live with that, especially because she still can’t believe how close they’ve gotten over the past few months, how comfortable Nora is around her now.

There’s a small line at Jitters, and Iris pulls her phone out of her purse to text Barry if he wants to join them. Just, she never gets around to sending the text, because—

“Oh, dammit.”

Iris spins around, and sure enough, Leonard Snart is standing behind them, still holding the door, gaze darting from Iris to Nora. Iris turns to her daughter, who is blinking innocently at her. She couldn’t have known that. She couldn’t have known that Snart would walk into Jitters right after them. Could she?

Iris sighs and gives Snart a small smile. “I won’t make a scene if you don’t?”

He nods once and lets go of the door, stepping further into the coffee shop. “All right.”

Nora claps her hands once, startling both of them.

“How about you two find a table and I’ll get the drinks? Iced Flash for you, right?” Nora grins at Snart, and Iris takes everything back about how she can live with her scheming.

But he just makes an amused sound, pulls out his wallet and hands her some cash. “Keep the change.”

It’s too bizarre. Iris pinches the bridge of her nose, willing herself to focus, and turns around to look for a table. After she sits down, she puts her phone on the table in front of her, but the text she wanted to send Barry is long forgotten.

“So…” Snart says and sits down opposite her, pulling a face, and Iris is glad that she’s not the only one who deems the whole situation awkward, “A daughter, huh?”

“How… Oh, Barry told you?”

Snart nods. “Must’ve been a bit of a surprise when she introduced herself.”

Iris laughs and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Understatement of the year.” There’s a pause. She doesn’t know what the hell to say. “Um, I heard you apologized.”

“Don’t ever mention it again and I won’t deny it.”

She has to bite down on her lip to not laugh again, and Snart shoots her a wry grin.

“You seem less angry with me,” he points out.

She shrugs, “Yeah, well. I had a couple days to cool down.” She groans when she sees his expression and realizes she’s made a pun, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “What about you? You seem less asshole-y.”

“Touché.”

Nora comes back with their coffees in to-go cups, waggling her eyebrows at Iris as she sets them down in front of them before dropping down in the seat next to her.

God, she’s never gonna hear the end of this.

Nora opens her mouth, but they’re spared from whatever comment she was about to make, because her phone pings with a text message. She furrows her eyebrows and peeks at it, her cheeks turning red before speed-typing out a reply. Iris raises her eyebrows, exchanging a glance with Leonard.

“Uh,” Nora says and almost knocks over her drink as she gets up from her chair, suddenly uncoordinated. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna have to go.” She gives Iris an apologetic look and grabs her coffee, and she’s out of Jitters before Iris can even get a word in.

Iris can’t do anything but stare after her.

What the hell?

“I wonder what that was about,” she murmurs.

Her gaze darts to Snart when he hums, taking a sip of his coffee. “A date of some kind, I presume.” Iris gives him a quizzical look. “With someone you probably don’t approve of?”

Iris shakes her head, “That doesn’t make sense. She doesn’t even know anyone here—” She cuts off, blankly staring into space. Oh, the day is just getting better, isn’t it. Snart has to wave his hand in front of her face to snap her out of it.

She looks at him, still stunned. “Oh, hell no. How high do you estimate your chances of being wrong?”

He makes a contemplative face, “Not very high. Why?”

She quickly takes her bag and slides to the edge of her chair, “I need to go stop her!”

To her bafflement, Snart chuckles and reaches over the table to close his hand around her wrist, gentle but firm. The skin-on-skin contact makes her go still. She didn’t expect his skin to be so warm, didn’t expect how much she welcomed the feeling of his thumb pressing against the pulse point on her wrist. She wonders if he can feel her pulse speed up.

“How would you like it if you were going on a date and your father was coming after you?”

Iris grimaces. “You have a point, but Spencer Young is—” She lowers her voice, “She’s a bad person who tried to kill my husband!”

Snart gives her a pointed look and she huffs, settling back down. Fair enough. She is having a civil conversation with someone who’s tried to kill her husband before, too, after all.

“Not like we’re on a date, though,” she says absently, then narrows her eyes. “Why are you smirking like that?”

His smirk grows wider. “No reason.”

In that moment she realizes that his fingers are still circling her wrist, and she quickly snatches her arm away, clearing her throat and trying to ignore the warm feeling inside her chest.

But this is it, isn’t it? Whatever she’s feeling, it’s important. To her, to Barry, to the future of her family.

“Relax,” Snart says and leans back in his seat, “She’s a big girl, she’s gonna be fine.”

It takes Iris a moment to remember what they were talking about. Right, her daughter. Who apparently takes after her father in crushing on her villains. This family, honestly.

She takes a long look at Snart and can’t quash a smile, tapping the side of her cup with her finger.

“It’s getting dark outside. Are you gonna walk me home?”

A raised eyebrow is the only indication that he’s surprised by her request. But he tilts his head and gets up from his chair, making a flourishing gesture toward the doors.

“After you, Miss West-Allen.”

Iris hides a smile behind her cup as she walks out.

 

*

 

She’s still smiling when she’s walking down the hallway to the loft after saying goodbye to Snart in front of her and Barry’s apartment building. He was uncharacteristically considerate, waiting on the sidewalk until she’d disappeared inside the building, tipping his imaginary hat when she looked back one last time.

Iris scowls at the voice inside her head wondering if he has an ulterior motive being that nice, like he so often seems to have. She doesn’t want to worry about that, she just wants to enjoy the progress. Maybe Barry and her did get through to him, in some way.

Or maybe he just had a good day.

She stops short when she unlocks the door to the loft and it’s semi-dark inside, most of the light coming from an array of candles in the living room.

“Oh, wow,” she says and closes the door behind her, putting her purse and keys down on the sideboard next to the door. “Barry?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” his voice sounds from the kitchen. In a flash he’s in front of her, pressing a glass of wine into her hand. Iris laughs softly and leans in for a quick kiss before taking a sip.

“Oh, this is good. What’s the occasion?”

Barry shrugs, a little sheepish. “I just thought we could have a nice evening together. I’m off Flash duty tonight if there’s no emergencies…” He trails off, biting his lip like he’s still unsure, after all this time, if she’s going to reject him. Iris smiles and puts her glass aside, cupping his face.

“I’d love that,” she says softly and kisses him, and that flame in her chest she tried so hard to stifle before lights up again with full force. “So what’d you have in mind?”

She lets go of him to start working on the buttons of her blouse, revealing her bra, smiling when Barry’s eyes track her hands.

“Um,” he says, clearly distracted as Iris undoes the last button and shrugs the flimsy fabric off her shoulders, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. He wets his lips, “I was thinking pizza and a movie, but—”

Iris pulls him down by the collar of his shirt and kisses him hard, and Barry’s shoulders are shaking with silent laughter as she steers them toward the couch.

“But I guess those can wait,” he mumbles against her mouth, and Iris lets out a pleased hum when he deepens the kiss, pulling her close by the belt loops of her jeans. She loves how it never takes long to get him out of breath, even with his powers—maybe because of them.

When Iris draws back, his lips are stained with her lipstick and she snorts, tugging at the hem of his shirt to get him to take it off.

“What about Nora?” Barry asks even as he pulls it over his head.

“I’m sure she’s gonna be busy for a while.”

Barry huffs a laugh, “Oh, really?”

Iris doesn’t want to think about Nora right now. She just wants to be in the moment and be with Barry and… and… a familiar smirk worms its way into her mind, a clever hand touching her wrist, and she almost gasps at the realization that she’s so turned on not only because she wants Barry, but also because of _Leonard_.

The thought makes her throb between her legs, and she starts fumbling with Barry’s belt, fingers suddenly shaky.

“Here,” Barry says softly. He deals with his belt and unzips in the fraction of a second, shimmying out of his jeans before sliding his warm hands along Iris’s sides and up her back to open her bra, goosebumps running over her skin at his touch.

She moans and her eyes flutter shut when he leans down to kiss and lick her neck and rubs over her stiff nipples with his thumbs.

“Barry,” she breathes, tilting her neck to the side for better access, “can you do your speed thing and get us naked? I need you… right now…”

He hums a sound of agreement against her skin, and then there’s a whirlwind of lightning around her. By the time Barry stands in front of her again their clothes are strewn around them on the floor.

Iris reaches for his cock, so flushed and hard already, and Barry holds onto her shoulders as she wraps her hand around him and strokes gently over his slit with her thumb. She knows how much he loves this, and she watches his jaw go slack when she twists her palm around the head, precome dribbling out.

“Iris,” he pants, and she nods, reluctantly letting go of him.

“Come on,” she says, winking at him before crawling onto the couch on her hands and knees, resting her forearms on the armrest. She flicks her hair over her shoulder to look back at him and spreads her legs as wide as she can without sliding off. “You gonna fuck me or what?”

“Jesus.” Just the sound of how raspy Barry’s voice is makes her pussy clench.

And then he’s behind her, stroking down her back with his hands, chuckling when she huffs impatiently.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, and she’s about to snap at him to get on with it (even though her face heats up at the compliment) when she feels him position his cock at her entrance. There’s barely any friction when he slides into her because she’s so wet—when did she get this wet?—and he seems to know that despite the romantic ambience and candlelight she doesn’t want it nice and slow, not tonight.

So he grips her hips for leverage and fucks her with hard, short thrusts, and she just lets go, curling her hands into the upholstery, unfiltered moans escaping her. It’s so carnal when his hips hit her ass with every thrust, so much like what Iris needs, that she feels close already.

Barry echoes her thought, “I don’t think, _fuck_ , I’m gonna last long—”

“Mh, just keep going,” she pants and bites down on her lip so she can hear Barry’s little grunts and groans as he keeps pushing into her, and she grips the fabric of the couch hard and sneaks a hand between her legs so she can rub her clit in quick little circles, alternating with pinching the wet, swollen flesh gently between her fingertips, and it feels so good that she can’t keep her moans down. “Fuck, Barry. _Barry_.”

“Yeah,” he groans in reply and slides his hand up to her shoulder to pull her onto him harder.

His thrusts grow almost inhumanly fast, and then his hips stutter and he chokes out a whine and she can feel the warmth spreading inside of her as he comes. She whimpers, grateful when he keeps thrusting because she’s _so close_. For a moment she indulges herself, letting herself imagine what if it was Leonard spending himself inside her—

The thought shocks Iris into her own orgasm, barely needing to touch herself as it crashes over her, trembling.

For a moment they’re quiet except the sound of them breathing hard. Then Barry pats her hip, pulling slowly out, and leans down to brush a kiss onto her shoulder.

Iris smiles and turns around under him, careful so she doesn’t accidentally elbow him in the nose.

“What, again?” he asks when he sees her face, making her giggle. Iris folds her hands behind his neck, his hair a little damp with sweat, and pulls him down to bring their lips together.

“Yes, please,” she says between open-mouthed kisses, wrapping her legs around his middle and tilting her hips up so she can grind herself against his half-hard cock.

His soft laugh turns into a groan, and he braces himself on the armrest so he can grip himself, both of them watching as his cock slides over her lips, against her clit, twitching against her as he grows harder, and it’s so wonderfully dirty that Iris craves him inside again _now_.

Bless Barry’s pretty much nonexistent refractory periods.

It feels so right when he presses into her again, and she lets go of him to hold onto the couch. Barry smiles and leans down, burying his face in her neck to kiss her skin as he starts thrusting, and it’s so good, but there’s such a deep need inside of her to talk to him, to tell him about… She squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep breath.

“Barry,” she whispers, “I saw Leonard today, at Jitters. I can’t stop thinking about him.”

Barry stills.

Then he slowly straightens up until he’s on his knees, and for a moment she worries about having said the wrong thing.

Until she gets a good look at his face.

He looks wrecked, cheeks flushed and lips parted, puffing out short breaths.

“Yeah?” He circles his hands around her hips and gives a sudden thrust forward, and Iris moans, trying to pull him further into her with her legs, huffing when he won’t budge. He licks his lips, “Tell me.”

She shakes her head, not able to think properly. She remembers how frustrated she was with Snart during their conversation at the bar, and how easygoing he was with her just that afternoon, how he touched her wrist like it was no big deal, the way the skin of his hand felt, his piercing gaze as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her—

“I just want him so bad, babe.”

“ _Shit_.”

In the blink of an eye she’s on her front and Barry’s pushing into her from behind again, a hand on her back holding her down so her breasts press into the upholstery, her eyes rolling back from the thrill when he pushes into her harder, grunting with every thrust.

Yes. _Yes_. He’s not normally this rough with her, but she realizes in that moment that it’s exactly what she’d been looking for tonight.

“You think of him fucking you like this?” Barry pants and Iris whimpers, nodding and holding onto the couch. On second thought she grabs a throw pillow to stifle her moans in—she just knows she’s gonna be loud.

Barry huffs a breathless laugh and seems to take it as an incentive, picking up the pace, barely pulling out as he pounds into her.

“Say his name again,” he says. Iris almost sees stars.

“Leonard,” Iris whispers into the pillow. It’s like a knot unravels in her chest, and she gasps his name out again. “Leonard,” she dares to say it louder and Barry groans, leaning forward so his chest is flush with her back, hands stroking along her stomach and teasing the undersides of her breasts.

She speaks his name again. And again.

Barry curses and slides one of his hands down to her pussy, pressing his fingertips down on her clit, and then he’s _vibrating_ his hand, not for a moment faltering in his thrusts, and Iris can’t do anything but scream into the pillow.

“ _Leonard_ , oh god—oh god, Barry, I’m gonna come—”

“Yeah, yeah, come on, baby—”

Her breath is punched out of her when her orgasm hits her, her whole body jerking as her cunt contracts wildly around her husbands cock, going on for so long that she’s sure she’s breaking some kind of record. Barry comes just seconds after her, filling her up with his release, and the realization that he must’ve held on until he’d made her come has another aftershock shudder through her.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she says, and they burst out laughing at the same time. “I’m sorry,” she says, still giggling.

Barry shakes his head against her shoulder and rolls off her, then settles down next to her on the couch. She still has the throw pillow in a death grip. He reaches out to brush her messy hair away from her face and traces his thumb along her cheek.

“I love you,” he says, and Iris doesn’t know why, but she’s tearing up. “I love you so much, Iris.”

She smiles and turns her head to kiss his wrist.  “Love you more,” she mumbles, exhausted. Then she grimaces. “Not to ruin the moment, but could you go get a towel before we ruin our couch?”

Barry barks a laugh and nods, pressing a hard kiss to her lips before he flashes off and accidentally extinguishes all of the candles in the process.

 

*

 

Barry’s woken up by a bright light. God, why is it so bright? He blinks his eyes open, shielding them with his hand until he realizes that it’s the living room lamp.

“Mom, Dad, could you _please_ get dressed?”

He freezes. Takes his hand away from in front of his face.

Nora’s standing in the middle of the living room, hands over her eyes. Next to him, Iris yawns and turns so she can look at her.

“Why? There’s a blanket,” she says. Which Barry wraps a little tighter around them, just to be sure.

“Oh my god.” Nora feels her way to the kitchen sink with her eyes squeezed shut, turning away from them to get a glass of water. “I’m never, _ever_ sitting on that couch again. Gross!”

Barry can’t help but laugh. Iris’s eyes are twinkling with mirth when he glances at her.

“Honey, didn’t you know how you were conceived?”

“Oh my god,” Nora repeats. “I think I’m a little too old for the talk, Mom. But there’s a huge difference between knowing and _knowing_ —you know what, I’m gonna get my stuff and stay at Papa Joe’s tonight. Or, like, forever.”

She’s almost out of the door when Iris calls her back. Nora lets out an irritated huff but turns around, finally looking at them even if she’s pulling a face like it’s the worst thing she’s ever experienced. Barry can relate. He doesn’t know how Iris is so relaxed about this. Maybe she’s still half-asleep.

“How was your date?” she asks.

“My d—” Nora looks even more flustered; a moment ago, Barry wasn’t aware that that was even possible. And, hold on, what? He raises his eyebrows. That’s the first he’s heard about a _date_.

“It was fine,” Nora says, voice clipped, but there’s a small smile on her face. “I’m really gonna go now.” She’s gone before they can wish her a good night.

Iris turns to Barry, trailing a finger down his chest.

“Well, if she’s gone the whole night…” She bites her lip, and Barry swears he’s going to die one day from how much he loves her, “Are you up for another round?”

He answers by pouncing on her, barely able to kiss her because they’re laughing so hard.

 

*

 

It’s been a while since Barry and Iris have been out together, just the two of them, and what better excuse is there to attend a rich people gala than for research for a case they’re both working on?

Iris takes a sip of her champagne and huffs out a breath, watching the couples on the dance floor. Despite their plans, the evening hasn’t been eventful. Literally nobody in this room appears to have even the smallest connection to the Darbinyans.

Barry nudges her side and smiles at her, probably sensing her boredom. At least it’s nice they got to dress up. Barry always looks striking in a suit. She nudges him back with a twitch of her mouth and raises her glass to take another sip, gaze sliding over his shoulder—and promptly chokes on her drink.

“Whoa,” Barry says, patting her back, which is absolutely not helping, “Are you okay?”

She coughs and nods, wiping a tear away from under her eye.

“Oh, god,” she says. “Don’t look behind you now, but I think Snart’s here.”

Barry of course doesn’t seem to be thinking of being inconspicuous and turns around to look for him. He turns back to her quickly, eyes wide. “I think he’s seen us.”

Of course he has, with that incredible display of subtlety.

Iris glances over his shoulder—Snart is indeed making his way to their corner of the room, his dark navy suit fitting him so well that she can’t look away. Jesus, she’s getting as bad as her husband.

“Well, well, well,” Snart says, sounding almost delighted, “What do we have here?”

He plucks Barry’s champagne glass out of his hand.

“Hey!”

Snart raises his eyebrows at Barry and takes a pull. “Don’t know why you bother. This doesn’t do anything for you anyway, does it?”

Barry huffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Iris is positive he’s very much enchanted, and she presses her lips together to hide a smile.

“’s still rude,” Barry mumbles.

Snart hums a noncommittal tone, gaze darting over to Iris. She suddenly feels self-conscious as his eyes roam over her form, not even trying to hide that he’s checking her out. Instead of getting indignant like she usually would, a pleasant warmth pools low in Iris’s stomach. Snart smirks at her, then turns back to Barry.

“Are you keeping tabs on me?”

“Of course not,” Barry says and Iris shakes her head, confused when Snart starts chuckling.

Oh, that was supposed to be a joke. Funny. Snart takes another sip of his stolen drink. Someone seems to be in a good mood tonight. Or has had a little too much champagne.

Iris knows it’s _so_ inappropriate, but she can’t stop thinking about the other night, about her and Barry’s little fantasies. Can’t stop imagining the way his lips might feel on her, how he looks like he could just grab her and lift her up without effort, or how’d he look with Barry, and—

Shit.

She’s aware that Barry is thinking about the exact same thing, judging from the dusting of pink over his cheekbones and the little glances he throws Iris.

“Actually, you might be able to help with something,” Barry says.

“Is that so?” Snart’s focus is back on Iris, and she realizes that he’s expecting her to talk.

“Uh,” she swallows, “do you know anything about a drug operation run by Frank Darbinyan?”

He tilts his head. “Depends. What do you need to know?”

Barry is quick to answer, “Headquarters. Delivery times. Other contacts, maybe. CCPD is getting desperate.”

Snart hums and taps his finger on the side of the glass, then makes a faux-regretful face. Iris nearly rolls her eyes.

“Sorry. No idea what you’re talking about.”

Barry visibly slumps and Iris pats his arm, smiling a little because of his reaction. And she thinks that’s that, but—

“May I?”

It takes her a second to figure out what Snart means, holding his hand out to her. She stares at it.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” She gives Barry a wide-eyed look that he returns. Snart seems to interpret the exchange for concern. If he only knew.

“Don’t worry,” he says to Barry and hands him their empty champagne flutes, “I’m going to take _good_ care of her.”

Then he fucking _winks_ at him.

Snart leads her to the dance floor, fingers brushing over her knuckles as they arrange themselves. She kind of can’t believe he’s right there, so close, hand curling around her waist. She rests her hand on his shoulder and lets him lead her, closing her eyes for a moment. They’re in a room full of people, but the dance is intimate in a way she’s never experienced before.

He clears his throat, shaking her out of her little trance.

He leans down, and for one scary second she’s convinced he’s going to kiss her. God, her fantasy is really going wild today, isn’t it? But he just starts talking quietly, eyes on the room beyond her.

“I can’t tell you about delivery times, but there’s a hand-over on week nights at a ranch the Darbinyans own in West Central.”

She inhales sharply. He’s telling her… he’s actually telling her what they need to know. To anyone watching them, he could be whispering about anything. It’s ingenious. And so much _him_ that it’s hard for her to not start grinning uncontrollably.

“They’re using horse trailers for their product.”

He twirls her, eyes twinkling with mischief when he sees how nonplussed she is, before he leans in again, lips brushing the shell of her ear. Her eyes flutter shut, and she squeezes his shoulder, getting a squeeze on her waist in return. The simple gesture shoots through her like a lightning bolt. She’s getting wet, just like that. She wonders how Barry is doing, what he’d do if he knew how turned on she is, and she has to grit her teeth to get her focus back so she can listen to what Snart is telling her.

“You’re on the wrong track with Frank Darbinyan. He barely knows how to stay off the radar. You’re looking for his ex-wife, Debbie. She’s the brains of the operation.”

He pulls back when the song is winding down, and she reluctantly lets go of him. He checks his watch, then shoots a glance toward the doors.

“That’s my cue,” he says. His face turns… not cold, exactly, but Iris can’t help but wonder how much of his warmth toward her was for show. “You owe me.”

He makes to turn around but she grabs his arm, quickly letting go when she feels him tense up.

“Thank you, Leonard,” she says softly. He gives her a sharp nod, and then he’s leaving, for whatever probably-not-so-legal business he’s here for.

She jumps when she feels a hand on her shoulder, then relaxes when she recognizes her husband’s touch.

“He told you what we need to know, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Iris breathes. “How is he like that?”

“What do you mean?”

She shakes her head and turns around, wrapping her hands around Barry’s neck so that they can sway to the music. “How can he just wrap us around his little finger without even trying?”

It comes out more indignant than she intended, startling a laugh out of Barry, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He drops a kiss onto her forehead.

“If you ever figure out the answer to that question, let me know.”

 

*

 

So, they have sex.

A _lot_.

More than they had when they first started dating, which is funny, because back then they didn’t have a daughter from the future taking up a big chunk of their usual alone time. But when Nora isn’t anywhere near them, it’s like they can’t keep their hands off each other, and consequently their locations get more… experimental.

On the stairs up to their bedroom ‘cause they couldn’t wait any longer. One of the S.T.A.R. Labs bathrooms, coming back into the cortex out of breath and having to endure Cisco’s snickers and Caitlin’s disapproving looks.

Iris has never been more glad that she can’t blush like Barry.

Her personal favorite is still when Barry was on patrol one night and she was alone in the cortex, thoroughly distracting him by murmuring filthy things into his ear. He’d just sped to the Labs, swept her up, and the next thing she knew they were on a rooftop looking over the city, and they did it right there out in the cold, under the stars.

It’s like a second honeymoon period.

Iris kind of knows that Barry feels guilty. Not just that they’ve often taken to fantasize about one Leonard Snart without his knowledge—though Iris thinks he’d be secretly pleased more than anything else if he knew—but also that Barry clearly has deep feelings for someone who isn’t her. That he’s slowly realizing he’s had these feelings for a while. Years.

Not to mention that she herself is starting to harbor feelings for that same person, too. She gets it.

But it’s not like they’re getting anywhere with that at the moment, though. They haven’t seen or heard from Leonard for a couple of weeks, not since that night at the gala. God knows where he is and what he’s doing, if he’s planning a heist or if he’s just intent on staying off the grid.

For now it’s just Iris and Barry, their daughter, and the promise of a future to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! ♥  
> \---  
> tw: mentions of alcohol; a tiny bit of secondhand embarrassment  
>   
> To skip the porn, stop reading after the paragraph that begins with "Iris doesn’t want to think about Nora right now." and start reading again after the next asterisk (*), at "Barry’s woken up by a bright light." Note that there are several non-graphic mentions of sex throughout the chapter


	4. IV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna stop adding 'how to skip the porn' notes because, uh... you'll see. *hides*  
> If anyone's bothered by smut/references to sex and wants to avoid that, please send me an ask on tumblr at [barrylen](http://barrylen.tumblr.com) and I'll make a post about it.
> 
> Hope you enjoy ♥
> 
> (PS. Joss might be a little OOC in this after this week's Flash episode, but what can you do...)

Central City is under siege.

Objectively, Nora knows that it’s horrible that some scary as hell species of giant insects made of metal is wreaking havoc in their city, but she’s just a little bit excited. Okay, a lot. After all, it’s her first time helping to fight a big bad, so to speak.

Team Flash and Team Arrow are assembled in the cortex at S.T.A.R. Labs, in the process of hashing out a plan of attack. Nora sighs and pulls her legs up onto the chair she’s sitting on—it doesn’t look like they’re getting anywhere anytime soon.

She’s aware that Lenny has been leaning against the wall next to the doorway for the past few minutes, no doubt waiting to make a dramatic entrance. Oliver’s noticed him, too, staring daggers at him from the other side of the room when he’s not arguing with her dad. At least there aren’t actual arrows flying. Yet.

There’s a pause in the discussion and a lot of frustrated faces all around, and of course that’s the moment Lenny chooses to announce his presence.

“Looks like we have a situation.”

It’s comical how everyone spins around to where he’s stepping a little further into the room with a bored smile, fingers curled around the handle of the cold gun in its holster. Cisco makes a strangled sound and Caitlin’s eyes turn briefly to an icy blue while most of Team Arrow just look confused. Nora’s mouth twitches up. Good luck explaining that one.

“Snart,” her dad says, a little awestruck, and exchanges a quick look with her mom. Nora makes a face and pulls out her phone to text Joss, only half focused on the conversation. Her dad clears his throat, “What are you doing here?”

“Doesn’t look good out there. Figured you might need some help.”

Nora doesn’t need to look up to know that her dad’s jaw is probably hitting the ground.

“We might need a little more help than you, though,” Caitlin says, to the surprise of pretty much everyone. “And we can’t reach the Legends…”

Nora tunes back into the conversation, perking up. “I know a couple people who could help.”

Her mom lets out a bothered sigh, turning to her with the dreaded ‘I am your mother and you are going to listen to me’ look. It’s uncanny.

“No way, Nora, you’re not bringing Spencer Young into this.”

Oh, jesus christ. “ _Mom_. Who said anything about Spencer?”

Her mom doesn’t need to know that Nora was planning on asking her to join them, too, until she remembered that Spencer’s visiting family in Coast City at the moment. And yeah, that probably wouldn’t have been a good idea, anyway, now that she thinks about it.

While they wait for the Young Rogues sans Spencer, Nora flashes over to Lenny and elbows his arm. He looks at her like she personally offended him. She rolls her eyes.

“You told Mom I was going on a date?” she hisses at him.

He just smirks at her. “You didn’t tell me that you’re a speedster from the future and your parents are Iris West and the freaking Flash, so we’re not even _close_ to even.”

She huffs, irritated, but he has a point. He always does.

It doesn’t take long until Joss and Raya walk into the cortex, looking around with interest. Raya’s grim image that she had going is instantly ruined when she spots Lenny and lights up.

“Len!” she exclaims. Nora presses her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh—everyone looks so gobsmacked when Lenny actually _smiles_ and they share a brief hug. Raya kisses his cheek, making a show of wiping the lipstick stain off his skin while he rolls his eyes.

“Jesus, Raya, calm down,” he drawls. “Not like we don’t see each other every other week.”

Nora’s mom coughs pointedly, “Sorry, you know each other?”

“I was friends with her mother,” Lenny says.

Raya snorts. “Friends, right.” She snaps her mouth shut when Lenny glares at her.

Nora’s parents look so incredibly jealous for a moment, so obvious, that Nora can’t believe Lenny doesn’t even seem to notice it, as perceptive as he always claims he is. Everyone else in the room does seem to notice, though, judging by the way Oliver crosses his arms in front of his chest with a stern look, and the pairs of raised eyebrows all around. Nora has avert her eyes to hide a smile.

“Hey,” someone says next to her and Nora feels her cheeks heat up.

“Hey yourself,” she says to Joss, who inches closer to trail her hand down the back of Nora’s arm, a smirk on her face like she knows that Nora is one touch away from becoming a stuttering mess. Nora doesn’t know how she’s still so awkward around Joss. Maybe it’s because other people are around. Speaking of other people…

Her mom is watching them with narrowed eyes, sees how Joss leans into Nora with an arm around her waist—that’s it, her ability to form coherent thoughts has officially vanished—and Nora can actually pinpoint the moment when she realizes that Nora hasn’t been seeing Spencer, after all. Her expression is a mixture of relief and exasperation, making Nora snort.

“Hey, uh,” Nora says and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Would you like a tour of the labs?”

Joss raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you bet.”

Nora hears her mother yell after them as they leave the cortex, “Don’t wander too far girls, we have a city to save!”

She pulls a face at Joss and they both burst out laughing, bumping into each other. Nora loves the past so much, she doesn’t ever want to return to the future.

 

*

 

“You know she’s married, right?”

“Excuse me?”

Raya sits down in the chair next to Len and drops her feet on the table, winking at Dr. Snow when she frowns at her from across the room. She gestures in direction of where Iris and Barry are standing, talking softly with Cisco, Queen, and two others of the Star City vigilante team.

“Little Miss Righteous over there. Is married. Don’t even think about it, hon.”

Len clenches his jaw. He’s not _thinking_ anything regarding Iris West. West-Allen. Whatever.

“Whatever you think you’re talking about, drop it.”

Raya continues speaking like she hasn’t even heard him. Brat. “I read she’s married to some… CSI guy…”

She trails off, narrowing her eyes when the Flash, mask and all, reaches out to gently fit his arm around Iris’s shoulders and she leans into him, giving him one of her adoring smiles. The whole display makes Len want to ice them. Or himself. He isn’t picky.

“Oh my god,” Raya says faintly, and Len pinches the bridge of his nose. _Here we go_.

She unlocks her phone and pulls up an article about the West-Allen wedding and a Nazi invasion that Len raises his eyebrows at, but to be honest, not much can surprise him anymore. Especially not after he’s seen one of the insect giants singlehandedly set an office building downtown on fire not half an hour ago. He’s glad that Lisa is staying with a friend in Gotham over the weekend, even though he usually isn’t too fond of that city.

Raya enlarges the photo of Iris and Barry at their wedding and holds her phone up so she can scrutinize what’s visible of the Flash’s face, comparing him to the picture and shaking her head in disbelief. She glances back at Len, then does a double-take.

“Hold on, you _knew_? You knew who the Flash is?”

Len sighs and tilts his head, “Don’t broadcast it. We have… an understanding.”

It’s the wrong thing to say—Raya lights up like the cat who got the cream.

“Oooh, that’s how it is, huh?” She takes another look at the picture. “Well, he isn’t too hard on the eyes either, is he?”

“ _Raya_.”

“ _Fine_. Jeez.”

“I trust that you won’t tell anyone?”

“About who the Flash is, or about your little crush on him _and_ his wife?” She laughs when he gives her a blank look. “Don’t worry, Len, it’s much more fun this way.”

“I bet it is,” he grumbles.

Raya snorts and jumps to her feet when the heroes in the room look like they’re ready to get out there and fight. “Damn, I can’t believe I let myself be convinced to work with these do-gooders.”

Len doesn’t grant her anything more than a disinterested hum.

A crush. As _if_.

 

*

 

The fight is, for lack of a better word, messy.

Barry has to leave most of the actual fighting to the others, even though it pains him that he can’t have an eye on Nora at all times lest she get hurt.

(He can’t believe he’s trusting Mark Mardon’s daughter to do that.)

But for the most part, he’s just flashing from one end of the city to another, saving civilians from burning buildings and falling debris, depositing everyone he saves on the outskirts or by the water. They still haven’t figured out what exactly their attackers are or what they want, just that they look like huge insects made of metal and are able to fly and like to destroy everything in their path.

Thankfully, Cisco is able to vibe again and Caitlin has Killer Frost back and is able to communicate with her, so their team is doing better than ever. And with the help of Team Arrow and _Leonard_ (Barry can’t believe he showed up after two weeks of radio silence and actually offered his help, voluntarily) and the two Young Rogues, they’re able to diminish the creatures’ numbers, little by little.

He has to stop by S.T.A.R. Labs for a minute to get water and wolf down one or four energy bars, pressing a kiss to Iris’s temple while he’s at it, exchanging an exhausted smile with her.

“I’ve been thinking,” Iris says, “Do you think they have, like, a queen? Or a hive mind, like the Dominators? By the time you guys have taken them all down, they’ll have destroyed half of the city.”

Barry nods and squeezes her shoulders. “Yeah, I’m gonna need to talk to Cisco and Felicity about that, when I’m finished getting all of the civilians to safety. Maybe I’ll ask Nora to help me…”

And then he hears it—Leonard’s talking through the comms, sounding very out of breath, “Flash? Flash, I could need your he—”

There’s an ear-piercing crack from god knows what, and the signal cuts off, and for a second Iris and Barry stare at each other in shock before Iris yells, “Go!”

Barry is off going as fast as he can because he _cannot lose any time_ , not right now.

“Where are you…” he mutters to himself as he speeds through the streets.

He’s near tears when he still hasn’t found Leonard on his fourth run-through and his muscles are slowly but surely getting tired. Then it occurs to him—maybe he’s up on a roof somewhere.

Barry curses and pushes himself to give it everything he got, running up and down buildings and jumping over the spaces between them.

He finds him a few moments later; he’s suspended in mid-air over Main Street, one of the beasts flying a good two dozen feet above him. It’d clearly picked him up to let him fall to his death.

“Jesus, fuck, shit, shit, _shit._ ” Barry grits his teeth when he runs up the outer wall of the nearest building, throwing himself off of it to grab Leonard and the cold gun that’s in the air next to him, and then they’re crashing down on one of the lower rooftops, Barry’s body cushioning the fall.

He’ll live, but it hurts like—

“Fuck,” Barry bites out when a stabbing pain shoots through his body, but he can’t focus on that right now.

He rolls them over so that Leonard’s on his back, head lolling to the side, and for a dreadful moment, it looks like he isn’t breathing.

“ _No_! Oh, no, no, no—” Barry pushes his cowl off his head and fists his hand in the front of Leonard’s stupid parka, so in shock that he can’t even think of any reanimation techniques, barely breathing himself. He can’t… he can’t lose him again.

And then Leonard coughs softly. His eyelashes flutter.

Barry lets out a sob, burying his face in the fabric of the parka. Leonard groans and shifts a little.

“Barry.”

Barry just shakes his head, gasping for air. He jumps when he feels hands covering his, extracting them from his grip on the fabric.

“ _Barry_.” He finally dares to lift his head to look at Leonard. There’s a small smile playing around his mouth, and he draws an exhausted sigh, “Thanks for that.”

A sound somewhere between a sob and a scoff escapes Barry, “You _asshole_. You—”

He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, but he cups Leonard’s face, another wave of relief rushing through him when he feels that he’s warm and alive and breathing, and then he bends down and crashes their mouths together, barely picking up on a surprised sound from Leonard.

Barry gasps and can’t help but go in for another kiss. He startles when a hand slides into his hair and Leonard starts kissing back, teeth teasing at his bottom lip.

Barry is so shaken by it that he darts away, only realizing that he’s moved when he falls back on his ass a few feet away. Leonard is staring at him, out of breath, mouth so pink and kissable and eyes so dark, and Barry does the only thing he can remember to do right now.

He runs.

 

*

 

Iris is nearly going out of her mind when it’s past midnight and Barry still hasn’t come home.

In theory she knows that Barry’s fine—she’d been checking the monitors at S.T.A.R. Labs all evening after everyone else went home, watching his GPS signal, relieved when his vitals didn't drop to critical ranges. She’d asked Snart about him when he came back to S.T.A.R. Labs to return the comms, but he just gave her a sharp look and a shrug before he sauntered off, followed by Raya. So, not much to go on.

She’s half asleep on a chair at their dinner table when a flash of light announces her husband’s return.

“Iris?” He looks like he’s been through hell, hair and face wet with sweat when he pushes the cowl back, burn marks on the fabric of his suit. He’s swaying on the spot.

“Jesus, Barry,” she breathes and springs to her feet to get to him, taking his hands and guiding him to sit on one of the chairs. “What happened?”

She fills a glass with water at the sink and presses it into his hands. It’s empty in two seconds. Barry puts the glass down on the table and pushes his hair back with his hands, staring at the floor. He takes a deep breath.

“I found the—queen thing. Killed it.”

Iris closes her eyes briefly and crouches down before him, gently sliding off his gloves. His hands are mostly fine, but a few fingers will probably have to be rebroken by Caitlin. She winces at the thought and strokes over his palms.

“We were wondering why they suddenly took off,” she says softly. “Why didn’t you come back earlier? I was worried sick.”

The guilt on his face almost physically hurts her. He pulls his hands away.

“I kissed Snart.”

Iris’s eyes widen. “You—what?”

Barry is chewing on his lip, glancing at her. She’s sure that she must look a little amused, because he looks at her like she’s a puzzle he’s trying too hard to figure out.

“That’s why you’ve been out for hours?”

Barry shrugs. “I’m sorry. Needed to think. You—you’re not mad? I…” He looks like he’s tearing up, hands shaking.

“Babe,” she whispers and cups his jaw, tilting his face up so he has to meet her eyes. “We’ve been talking about it for weeks. _Months_. You’re allowed to kiss him without feeling guilty.”

She’d be lying if she said that there isn’t a part of her that’s insanely jealous, that wants to scream and rage at the idea of being left out, but most of her just feels… _warm_.

“But that’s talking and this is—I don’t know.”

Iris goes up on her knees to kiss him, to feel that he’s really there with her. His breath shudders out of him like he’s been holding it for hours. They’re both panting by the time they pull apart.

He presses another kiss to her lips, then glances around the loft. “Hey, where’s Nora?”

“Oh, she left with Joss earlier.” She gets up to sit down on the chair next to him, their knees brushing together.

Barry frowns. “Do you think it’s a good idea to just… let that happen? She’s going to be heartbroken when she has to go back.”

Iris sighs and intertwines their hands. “It’s going to be hard on her anyway, isn’t it? Why not let her have a little fun while she’s here? And I think Joss is a good one, no matter who her father is.”

“Yeah… I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

Barry snorts and Iris smacks a kiss onto his nose.

“Why don’t you go take a shower and make us something to eat, and then you can tell me all about what happened?”

“Oh, you want _me_ to make food?” He sounds so scandalized that she has to laugh.

“Well, I don’t think our neighbors would appreciate if the smoke alarm went off at”—she glances at the clock—“one in the morning?”

He rolls his eyes and leans in to kiss her one more time before slowly making his way toward the bathroom. Iris can’t help but smile after him. What a mess.

 

*

 

Len is reeling.

Has been since the fucking Flash kissed him senseless on the top of that building just to speed away and leave him there, half convinced that he’d hallucinated the whole thing.

Barry has become an expert at avoiding him since then, running out of the room whenever Len swung by S.T.A.R. Labs or tried getting ahold of him in Jitters, or even waited at a crime scene that he knew Barry’d have to examine. Barry took one look at him and immediately recognized him even in his baseball cap and sunglasses, made some no doubt nonsensical excuse to the police captain and got out of there.

It’s so frustrating that Len isn’t sure anymore why he’s even bothering to try and strike up a conversation, to talk about what the hell happened that day.

He’s ripped from his thoughts when his sister clears her throat, making him look up from the table in front of him. On it are blueprints of a high-security building owned by Mercury Labs that he has no intention of breaking into. It’s just… a good distraction.

“You’re brooding,” she says. “Do I gotta pay someone a visit?”

He scoffs, shakes his head. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure you will.”

Len clenches his jaw. It rankles, being treated like a child, like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. But in her defense, he probably shouldn’t have boasted about putting the Flash in his place and then turned around and helped him save the city. It’s his own damn fault, isn’t it?

He takes his time rolling up the blueprints, making a show of checking that his cold gun is charged when he’s finished.

“In fact, I’m gonna take care of it right now,” he says. Lisa gives him a look that he’s not in the mood to decipher. He turns to leave. “Don’t wait up.”

 

*

 

Breaking into the West-Allen loft feels familiar in a way it shouldn’t.

Len’s plan is simple; raid the fridge, get comfy in front of the TV and wait for Barry to get home. He can’t avoid him forever, right? And Len suspects he’d be more embarrassed by running from Len when he’s in his own home than by the conversation they need to have.

He closes the door behind him without making a sound and quickly disables the security system—amateurs, honestly—before making a beeline for the living room.

Only he doesn’t make it as far as around the corner. Because the room is… _occupied_. By the mister and missus themselves.

For a second Len forgets why he’s here, because—

They’re on the couch, kissing, with Barry on top, and from what he can see they’re clothed, lower bodies hidden behind the back of the couch, so that one could think they’re simply making out. But the way they move together is unmistakable. The way Iris throws her head back with her eyes closed, mouth open in a silent gasp, holding onto him with an arm around his shoulders. The way Barry’s shoving her a little further up the couch with each thrust. The way his cheeks are flushed with pink as he bends down to suck kisses into her neck.

Len can barely keep himself from swearing out loud, quickly disappearing behind the corner again, flattening himself against the wall.

Fuck.

 _Indeed_ , says a voice in the back of his head, and he rolls his eyes at himself. He checks his watch. No, he didn’t miscalculate. Of course he didn’t. Barry should still be at CCPD and Iris is usually at S.T.A.R. Labs around this time, doing whatever she’s doing there. But instead they’re here, and they’re…

Len clenches his fists when the pounding in his ears recedes and the sounds filter in. He doesn’t know how the hell he didn’t hear them when he came in. They’re not exactly quiet, and he’s pretty sure he’ll never get the way their moans sound together out of his head.

He’s startled out of his stupor when something crashes to the ground in the living room, followed by giggles, and he swallows hard, closing the door quietly behind him on his way out.

 

*

 

No matter what he does, he can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. It’s pathetic.

Comes back to the safe house, vaguely noting that Lisa is gone, and he sees Iris’s hand clasping Barry’s shoulder like she needs it to survive. Goes back to his floor plans and sees Barry’s face, flushed and handsome, hair so messy it just begs for someone to bury their hand in it. Shoves a bunch of pencils and notebooks off the table in frustration and sees them together, so caught up in each other that they didn’t even notice their intruder.

It’s not like he hadn’t been aware that they have sex. A young, married couple like them with a daughter to boot? Sure. He just hasn’t really let himself think about it. _Couldn’t_ let himself think about it. Especially after Barry kissed him, like, what was that about?

Once upon a time he thought he had a chance with him, even if it was just for a quick roll in the hay, so to speak. But after Barry’d picked him up in Siberia, he’d come to terms with the fact that it was never going to happen, not with him getting married to the love of his life. And then came the Oculus, and then, well…

Point is, he needs to get ahold of Barry and get him to explain the kiss, and maybe beat some sense into him, going behind his wife’s back like that. It was probably the heat of the moment, the adrenaline from the fight, but there was something akin to desperation in how he kissed him that completely messed Len up.

There’s a sharp spike of something in his chest that he doesn’t want to analyze too closely when he thinks of Barry going out of his way to avoid Len, but finding time to fuck his wife when they’re both supposed to be working.

It’s only later that night when he’s lying on his bed, cock in hand and coming harder than he has in a very long time, that he realizes he’s in way too deep.

 

*

 

Len must be some kind of masochist, because a few days later, he seeks out Iris at S.T.A.R. Labs.

It seems to be a slow day because nobody else is with her in the cortex, which suits him just fine. She’s sitting in a chair in front of a row of monitors, looking like she’s ready to coordinate everything in the case of an emergency, but there’s also a laptop open in front of her that she’s writing on—an article of some sort, most likely.

Len drops into the chair next to her and grins when she startles, clutching her chest. She glares at him.

“Upping our security didn’t work, huh?” she says, giving him an only slightly disapproving look when he reads the monitors in front of them, making mental notes about the criminal meta of the week. She saves the doc on her laptop and closes it, then leans back in her chair. “So, do you need anything or do you just want to pay us a little visit? Barry’s not here right now.”

Her voice has a pointed tone to it, and he narrows his eyes, drumming his fingers on the side of the chair.

“I need to… apologize.”

She makes a strangled sound like she wanted to snort but thought better of it and swallowed it down instead. He scowls.

“You. Leonard Snart. Want to apologize of your own volition.” Is it really that hard to believe? Yeah, it probably is. “Okay. For what, kissing my husband?”

His gaze snaps to her. The corner of her mouth is twitching, as if she made a joke. Len pulls a face and looks away. It’s not funny.

“No, not that. And _he_ kissed me.”

“So he did.”

So much for Barry going behind his wife’s back. He doesn’t even want to know what’s going on there. Except that he kind of does.

“I…” Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Fuck it. “I came by your loft this week.”

“…Okay?”

“I wasn’t finished.” He clears his throat. “I broke in and I kinda… walked in on you. And Barry.” He glances at her. Now her eyes are wide, amused expression gone. Great, finally catching on. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh. Um.” She reaches for a cup of coffee on the table, almost knocking it over in her haste. “Did you hear anything?”

He stares at her. Is that supposed to be a trick question?

“Excuse me?”

She splutters, “I-I mean, did we say anything… interesting?”

He snorts and crosses his arms in front of his chest. She’s not even focusing on the fact that he broke into her home. This is going a lot differently than how he expected. Not that he even expected to actually _tell her_.

“Nothing of consequence. I didn’t exactly stay long enough to enjoy the show.” He pauses, smirking when she only makes a small sound of acknowledgement and gulps down her coffee. “Why, exchanging state secrets in the bedroom? Or out of it, I suppose.”

“Something like that,” she mumbles, shooting him a look that could almost be classified as coy. “Thanks, I guess.”

“For invading your privacy?”

“For telling me.”

“Right. Well, I gotta get going—”

Or not; he’s cut off by a whoosh of air and lightning flashing into the room. Barry comes to a skidding stop in the middle of the cortex, and honestly, is there any time he’s at work when he’s supposed to be? Len has been running after him for days, but now that he’s here in the same room he’d rather freeze his own hand off again than talk to him.

“Hey, Iris, did you get my text about—Oh.” Barry wrings his hands when he spots Len, biting his lip as his gaze darts from him to Iris. “Everything all right?”

“Awesome,” Iris says before Len can open his mouth, and she jumps up from her chair, cradling the empty cup in her hands. “I’m gonna let you two talk.”

“No, that’s not nece—”

“Iris—”

They start talking at the same time, and Len huffs when Iris raises her eyebrows at them. She pats the back of her chair.

“Barry, sit. Talk.” Then she’s strutting out of the cortex, flipping her hair over her shoulder. They both stare after her like morons.

Barry sighs and slowly makes his way to the vacated chair, sitting down and pulling one of his legs up, wrapping his arms around his knee to rest his chin on it.

“Leonard,” he says.

“Bartholomew.”

Barry’s eyes are on the ground. He’s not even reacting to the name. Well, that’s just no fun.

“I’m sorry about last week,” Barry says softly. Len doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to do with that admission. Len isn’t sorry, is the thing. He wanted that kiss. But he’d sure like to know why it happened at all.

“You told Iris,” is what comes out of his mouth.

Barry looks up at him. “I did. I tell her everything.”

Len nods and wets his lips, “She didn’t seem to be upset with you. Or me.”

Barry just grins wryly and shrugs. He’s about to say something when an alarm in the cortex goes off, the noise loud enough to make Len grimace. Barry furrows his eyebrows and checks the monitors.

“Looks like our meta striked again.”

Len nods and pats the cold gun in the holster at his thigh. “I’ll come with.”

Barry just stares at him for a few seconds. Then he smiles.

“Careful, or one of these days people will start thinking you’re friendly with the Flash.”

“Oh, they already think that. My reputation is pretty much ruined thanks to you and your friends.” Barry looks troubled at that instead of amused like Len was going for, and Len rolls his eyes. Goddammit. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go.”

 

*

 

The meta woman escapes with about half a jewelry store on her, not for lack of trying on their part. Snart even looks a little impressed, not that Barry would call him on it.

After Barry ditches his suit at S.T.A.R. Labs, they end up sitting on a rooftop with a bag of fries from Big Belly Burger between them. Barry can’t stop himself from sneaking glances at Leonard and hiding smiles at his obnoxious chewing. Who knew that hanging out with Leonard Snart could be so peaceful?

“So, why’d you kiss me?”

Never mind, he takes everything back. Barry thinks on it for a moment, swallowing down his handful of fries, then shrugs and decides on the truth.

“I wanted to. I was scared for you, but I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that. I’m sorry.” He can feel his face heat up and curses himself for his own predictability.

Leonard coughs, “Hold on, you’re sorry ‘cause you… ambushed me?”

“I mean, yeah.”

“Jesus, Barry.”

Leonard’s shaking his head with the smallest smile on his face. Barry gives him a quizzical look. It shouldn’t be possible, but his cheeks turn even hotter when Leonard sucks salt off his thumb and smirks at him when he catches him watching.

“Well, there’s no need to be sorry. I…” He tilts his head as if he’s searching for the right words. “I wasn’t _opposed_ to it.”

Barry snorts and rubs a hand over his face. “That’s not vague at all.”

“Barry.” Leonard’s really close, all of a sudden. His eyes are searching Barry’s face and he reaches out to grasp his chin. Barry doesn’t dare move a muscle. He doesn’t think he could if he wanted. “Iris is okay with this?”

Barry just nods, unable to form words. He licks his lips out of reflex, heart thumping in his chest when Leonard’s gaze drops to track the motion.

“Can I…” Barry reaches out, unsure, but Leonard takes his hand and squeezes it, and it’s all the initiative Barry needs.

He leans forward to close the space between them, and Leonard’s right there, meeting him halfway. Leonard exhales a shuddering breath when their lips touch, and Barry cups his face to hold him in place. It’s not even like it's their first kiss because of that mishap the week before, but it feels all kinds of new and exciting. Maybe it’s just because he can’t believe it’s happening—or because he’s wanted this for so long—

The light scruff on Leonard’s face, the way his jaw works when their lips move together, how the rest of their bodies aren’t even touching but Barry can feel how strong he is through the grip on his chin.

He can’t help but make a pleased sound when their tongues meet and the kiss grows more heated. Leonard’s hand wanders to his neck to rub over his pulse point with his thumb, and Barry breaks the kiss with a harsh sigh, pressing their foreheads together.

“Okay?” He asks, a little embarrassed about how breathless he sounds. But Leonard’s already nodding, nosing at his cheek, and Barry grins, not able to stop himself from pulling him into another kiss.

 

*

 

Learning that Leonard walked in on them having sex is just the icing on the cake.

They’re not taking it slow with him at all, are they? Barry has absolutely no idea whether that does or doesn’t matter, regarding the timeline _and_ Iris’s and Barry’s and most importantly, Leonard’s feelings about the whole thing, but…

He’s too happy to worry about that, right now.

 

*

 

“It wasn’t a date!”

Iris laughs and shrugs off her cardigan that she’d been wearing over an old t-shirt of Barry’s.

“It so was. You did a little crime-fighting, you shared some food, _and_ you got to make out with him. You know, kinda unfair that you’re getting all the action,” she says and sits down next to Barry on their bed, ruffling his hair.

He snorts and catches her hand, kissing it.

Her heart aches, but not because of something as trivial as jealousy. She’s painfully aware of that if they don’t succeed and he still disappears in 2024, she’s going to be the one who has Leonard all to herself while Barry will only have a few precious years with him.

She clears her throat, considers him.

“What?”

“I might have bought something for us that I hope you’ll like.” She waggles her eyebrows, laughing when he perks up immediately.

“Oh, what is it?”

She slides out of bed and gets a box out of their closet, “Gimme a minute, okay?” She winks at him and disappears into the bathroom.

Iris smiles the whole time stripping down so she can put on the harness, admiring herself in the mirror, hoping that he’ll really like it and it wasn’t a bad call on her part. Stepping back into their bedroom, she pulls her robe a little tighter around herself and sets the box down on the nightstand. Barry watches raptly from the bed.

“So, I did some shopping…”

Barry grins up at her, clearly thinking she got a new set of lingerie, and Iris can’t wait any longer, so she lets the fabric of her robe fall open. There’s a moment of confusion on Barry’s face when he sees that she’s topless, even though his eyes linger on her bare chest for a moment, biting his lip—she’ll never get tired of having this effect on him—until his gaze drops down to between her legs.

“Oh.” It’s like his breath is punched out of him and he sits up straight, a shimmer of pink on his cheeks. “That’s a… oh, fuck.”

Iris can’t suppress a chuckle at how breathless he sounds—seems like it was a good decision investing in a high-quality strap-on harness and, well… she glances at the box, putting it down on the bed so he can take a peek inside. And a few dildos to fit the harness.

“I got a few different ones, I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

“Oh, jesus,” Barry says and drops back onto the bed with his hands over his face.

“Babe, are you okay?”

He laughs, muffled in his hands, “Nope.” After a pause he says, “The pink one, please?”

It’s not the largest one she bought but it’s considerable, surface smooth and a little thicker at the tip.

Her pussy clenches just thinking of what they’re about to do. Barry doesn’t seem to do much better; he pulls his t-shirt off and shoves his boxers down his legs, and his cock definitely interested in the proceedings.

“All right.” She fastens it to the harness and tightens it so the dildo’s base is flush against her pelvis, then pushes the box away, smiling when she sees that Barry’s watching her with heavy-lidded eyes. “Still good?”

He nods quickly, and Iris retrieves the bottle of lube she’s been keeping in the nightstand, crawling over Barry to kiss him. He’s so enthusiastic, squeezing her breasts and grabbing her hair, that she’s soaking wet in no time. They break apart, breathing heavy, and Barry’s hand wanders down between them, circling the dildo, feeling out its weight, moving up and down like he’s jerking her off. It sounds crazy, but she swears she can feel the pleasure of his hand on her in her core, not even realizing that she’s thrusting into his hand until he makes an encouraging sound.

“Fuck, Barry,” she breathes and pushes him back into the pillows, and then she’s diving down between his legs, wrapping her hand around his cock so she can take him into her mouth. He groans and reaches down to brush her hair away from her face, and she drags her tongue along the underside of his cock, swirling it around his head, having to force herself not to laugh when his leg spasms.

He whines when she pulls away, but shuts up as soon as he sees that she’s taking a moment to twist her hair into a knot at the back of her head and rearrange him to place a pillow under the small of his back before grabbing the lube.

“I can’t believe this is the first time we’re doing this,” she says and smiles at him, coating her fingers. It’s convenient that she keeps her nails relatively short, these days. “You ever done this before?”

He licks his lips and nods. His eyes are following her every move. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” She kinda wants to ask, if he’s fingered himself before or if he’s been with a guy, but he looks so overwhelmed that she makes a mental note to postpone that conversation.

She doesn’t stop looking at his face when she pushes his thigh up to spread him open and slides her slicked-up thumb from his perineum down to his entrance, stroking over it until he makes an impatient sound. She huffs a laugh and applies some pressure, marveling at how easy it is to slip inside. Barry drops his head back onto the pillow, biting his lip.

“You can do two, it’s… oh… it’s fine,” he says, and Iris raises an eyebrow but does as he tells her, pulling out her thumb and squeezing out some more lube onto her fingers. He’s so tight around them when she slides them inside, but the sounds he makes are better than she could have imagined.

Iris bends down to suck him back into her mouth, and he swears under his breath, tilting up his hips. She hums around him and bobs her head, all the while thrusting and twisting her fingers to open him up, and soon he’s relaxed enough that she can push in with three fingers, glancing up at him when he taps her cheek lightly.

“Iris,” he pants, “if you don’t stop I’m gonna come.”

She pulls off for a moment. “It’s fine. It’ll take the edge off, right?”

He snorts but nods, a sharp moan escaping him when she pushes her fingers deeper and licks a stripe up his cock before taking him back in as far as she can handle without gagging, and a minute later he’s coming down her throat, insides clenching around her fingers.

When she pulls off and looks up at him he looks absolutely wrecked, his face and chest flushed, hair plastered to his forehead from sweating, his cock lying heavy against his stomach. It’s the hottest thing she’s ever seen.

“Iris,” he says again and laughs a little. “Please.”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Just… please fuck me.”

 _Shit_. She pulls her fingers out, wiping them unceremoniously on the sheets.

“How d’you wanna do this?”

He moves instantly like he’s been waiting for the question, turning around so that he’s on all fours, giving her a crooked grin over his shoulder. She smiles back at him, not resisting the urge to sink her teeth into one of his asscheeks. He yelps, making them both laugh, and Iris wastes no time to grab the lube, liberally coating the dildo with it. Her cunt contracts greedily; she’s so wet that it’s slicking up her inner thighs, but that will have to wait for a bit.

It’s like some sort of out-of-body experience when she presses the tip of the toy against Barry’s hole and his rim stretches around it and she watches as it disappears in him little by little. He’s groaning like she’s never heard him before.

“You look so good like this,” she murmurs. He huffs a whine and reaches for her thigh, pulling at it.

“ _More_.”

Iris tuts and removes his hand from her thigh, squeezing it before letting go. “Shh, let me go slow, honey. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

He gurgles out an unintelligible reply and she snorts, holding onto his hips as she slides deeper into him with shallow thrusts. Barry’s hands are fisted in the sheets when she bottoms out. She experimentally rolls her hips, startles when he hisses.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, god, no, please do that again?”

Ah. She grins and repeats the motion, grinding into him. It’s—it’s _exquisite_ , how he’s moaning for her, rocking back onto the toy, how well he’s taking it. She picks up the speed of her thrusts when she feels a little more confident, and she can’t keep her eyes off where she’s fucking into Barry, enjoys how much he’s enjoying it.

There’s some kind of thrill, some kind of power in being able to take her husband apart like that, have him whimper like that.

Iris puts a little more force into her thrusts, tightening her grip on his hips to pull him onto her, and Barry lets out a strangled moan, going down on his elbows. His ass and the upper parts of his thighs are flushed from the harness and Iris’s skin slapping against him. The sight makes her clit throb, pussy almost aching with how aroused she is.

Beads of sweat are running down her back, and she’s sure her legs and buttocks are going to be sore as hell tomorrow, but the experience of being on the other end of things, so to speak, is so exhilarating that she can’t bring herself to care.

Barry turns his head in her direction, sounding almost frantic, “I think I’m gonna come.”

She furrows her eyebrows, taking note of his hands that are still clenched in the fabric of their bedsheets.

“Without touching yourself?”

“Yeah, fuck,” he groans and protests when she stops her thrusts.

“Turn around,” she says, “I wanna see that.”

She pulls slowly out and he turns onto his back, smiling up at her with so much adoration on his face that she can barely take it. Fuck, but he’s gorgeous. He’s pulling her in with his legs and she wraps them high around her waist, gripping her dildo so she can press back into him, kneading his ass because she can’t help herself. He certainly isn’t complaining.

When she starts thrusting again he throws his head back and rocks his hips up to meet her, and she leans further down to press his wrists into the mattress next to his shoulders and fucks into him deep and hard, the way she always loves him doing it to her when she’s close, reveling in how loud he’s gotten.

“Come on, babe,” she says. He whines in response, looking like he just needs a little push to get there. She licks her lips, panting, “You gonna come on my cock?”

Barry’s breath hitches and he squeezes his legs around her, then cries out and blurs for a second or two, and Iris almost can’t believe it when he starts to come just like that, cock twitching as his release spurts out of him with each thrust, streaking his belly.

“Can I touch?” He sounds so desperate that Iris has to laugh.

“Yeah, ‘course,” she says and lets go of his wrists, biting her lip as she watches him jerk himself through his orgasm until he’s spent. She only stops moving when he nods at her that it’s okay.

She takes off the harness as fast as she can after pulling carefully out of him, letting it fall to the floor somewhere behind her, and then she’s crawling up to sit on Barry’s chest because she needs his mouth on her right the fuck now. He smiles up at her, sated like she hasn’t seen him in a long time.

“Come on,” he says, voice raspy, and grabs her thighs to help her position herself over his face, and then she’s sinking down on him, nearly sobbing when his clever tongue flicks against her clit and he buries a couple of fingers in her. She’s so wet that she barely feels the stretch.

“One more, Barry,” she gasps out, and Barry groans under her before following her wish and slipping a third finger inside of her. _Fuck_ , it’s good.

Iris grips the headboard for leverage and grinds against his tongue and onto his fingers, probably completely soaking his face in her slick, and she swears that the vibrations against her clit when he moans in encouragement tingle up her spine. His other hand comes up to squeeze at her breasts and roll a nipple between his fingertips, and it doesn’t take her long to reach her peak with how fast he’s thrusting his fingers into her, his tongue teasing and sucking at her clit and her swollen folds, the wet sounds so deliciously filthy.

She throws her head back and shouts when it hits her, cunt twitching hard around her husband’s fingers, so intense that her thighs are trembling.

The one thing that goes through her mind when she intends to just ride out the aftershocks but ends up riding Barry’s tongue, rushing toward another climax, is that she wants to share this. Wants to share their trust, their love, wants to share how good it can be.

And there’s only one person in the world she wants to share it with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ♥ 
> 
> There might not be an update next week because of real life things, but I'll try to post as soon as I can after.
> 
> (There's so much smut in this fic SORRY)


	5. V.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait <3 Only one chapter to go after this!

Iris doesn’t know how she’ll do family dinner nights without Nora there, after she’s gone back to her time.

Iris’s dad, Cecile and Wally are visiting them at the loft, which is always nice, even though Nora has been pouting a little because little Jenna had to stay at home with the babysitter. The dinner table is filled with dishes heaped with food and bottles of wine, half of it gone within ten minutes with three speedsters at once in their home. Iris and Cecile share amused glances over the table while her dad just looks resigned.

Nora and Wally are involved in a heated discussion about fabricated food on the Waverider—her daughter has been on the Waverider at some point, good to know—while Barry and Iris make a start on washing the dishes.

“So,” her father says behind them, Cecile in tow, and Iris hands Barry a dishtowel to dry his hands on. She knows that _so_ ; she doesn’t know if it’s about something good or bad but she knows that they’re gonna have to explain themselves to him. Well, thinking about it, most of the time it’s nothing that doesn’t make her extremely uncomfortable. “Are you two gonna tell me why you’ve been acting so weird?”

Iris laughs, knowing that her father will see right through it, but it’s worth a try, right?

“Weird? We—we haven’t been acting weird, have we?”

Barry shakes his head in agreement, leaning faux-casually against the counter with a hand on his hip.

Yeah, her dad doesn’t look fooled. He just looks exasperated, narrowing his eyes. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

Iris chokes on nothing but air.

“Oh, god. No, Dad, I’m not pregnant.” Barry’s looking a little faint, making her snort despite everything. “Look, everything’s fine. We’re just—”

“ _Leonard Snart_?” Cecile’s eyes are wide, staring at Barry.

Barry throws his hands up, “Come on, Cecile, you said you wouldn’t use your powers on us!”

“I can’t help it, okay! You were practically screaming it at me.”

Iris rubs her temples. This is _not_ how she thought her dad would find out. Who she’s decidedly not looking at, until she feels him squeeze her shoulder.

“What’s this about Snart?” he asks, and Iris shoots a desperate look at Barry, but he looks just as lost as she feels. How do you explain to your detective dad that in the future you’re in a relationship with an ex-supervillain who will co-parent your own daughter?

Cecile clears her throat, “I’m just gonna…” She gestures toward the other two who may or may not have been listening—they’ve gotten suspiciously quiet—and takes another bottle of wine with her. Iris has the feeling that she just read every single one of her thoughts. Oh, dammit.

“Look, Joe,” Barry says, “Snart’s back from the dead, as you probably know, and we’ve… been working with him. So. He might be around a little more often in the future, that’s all.”

Nice save. Her dad nods thoughtfully and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“You know I’m a detective, right?”

Oh for heaven’s— “ _Dad_.” Iris bites down on her lip, relaxing a little when Barry presses into her side, rubbing over the small of her back with his hand. Her dad follows the movement with his eyes.

“You two are okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, we’re great,” Barry says, voice quiet. He sounds a little confused, which she can very much sympathize with.

“All right.” Her father takes a deep breath, considering them for another moment. “You can tell Snart the next time you’re _working with him_ that he and his sister are invited to our next family dinner. And,” he pats the gun holster at his side, “I’m looking forward to having a little talk with him.”

Iris opens and closes her mouth like a fish on land, and she’s sure Barry’s not doing any better. “I—what.”

Her dad just pointedly raises his eyebrows at them and turns around to join Cecile at the table again, shaking his head and muttering something about _damn kids_.

Barry’s the first one to recover.

“What the hell was that?” he hisses at Iris. “Did that actually just happen?”

“Yep,” she says, popping the p, even though she’s not positive that it did. How likely is it that they got stuck in an alternate universe without knowing it? Wouldn’t be the first time. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, right?”

Barry snorts and hugs her from behind, intertwining their hands over her stomach and watching their family bicker. “Can you imagine Lisa and Leonard here with us? With them?” he mumbles into her hair.

She hums, lips twitching. “Wally getting flustered when Lisa makes some inappropriate comment? Dad and Leonard staring daggers at each other over dessert? Cecile being a scary D.A. until she’s had too many glasses of wine and asks one of them to braid her hair? Hell yeah, I can.”

She feels Barry’s shoulders shake with silent laughter, and she can’t hold back a giggle herself.

Things are looking up.

 

*

 

A day later, Iris runs into Leonard at Jitters. Again.

“You frequent popular coffee shops a lot for a wanted criminal,” she says while she’s waiting for her order.

His expression turns amused and he takes a drink from his coffee, lifting a finger at her. “Now, now, I’m just a regular citizen these days.”

He’s wearing a wool coat and slacks, and Iris is dying to know what he’s been doing, who he’s been meeting.

“Oh, really? Tell that to Mercury Labs, who had a break-in at one of their temperature research labs last night. There’s no trace of who broke in or how they stole tech that’s worth millions of dollars.” No, she’s definitely not fishing. She’d just like a little bit of information, maybe even enough to write an article on the break-in. It sounds pretty mysterious, from what Barry’s told her. “Are you sure that wasn’t you?”

Leonard steps closer, giving her such a blatant once-over that her cheeks grow hot.

“Are you telling me how good I am at what I do? You know what they say about flattery…”

Dammit. How is he… like _that_? She scoffs, mostly because she doesn’t have a quip ready to go. He’s so close that she can smell a hint of aftershave. The barista has to call her name three times before she hears her, and Iris proceeds to almost knock her drink over when she reaches for it. At least she knows where her daughter gets it from.

Leonard just raises an amused eyebrow, the jerk. And then he turns around and walks out of Jitters. Iris frowns and hurries after him through the throngs of people on the sidewalk. She doesn’t know why she does it, it’s just… she feels like it’s important, for a reason she can’t fathom.

Leonard huffs an annoyed breath when she catches up with him. “Why’re you following me? I’m not gonna give you the scoop you’re looking for.”

Iris wets her lips, side-stepping a group of young students coming toward them.

“So you admit you know something?”

He doesn’t dignify her with an answer, which is fair but makes her frown. They walk for a few more minutes in silence—Iris likes to think it’s companionable—until he stops, gesturing to an Audi parked on the curb.

“Still wanna follow me?”

She huffs. Of course he owns a nice car, expensive but not too flashy.

“All right,” she says, feeling a little out of her depth when he holds the passenger door open for her and she slides into the seat. She kind of can’t believe she’s doing this. And that he’s letting her do it.

Iris doesn’t get suspicious until he turns the car on with something that doesn’t look like standard Audi tech.

“Wait, do you own this car?”

Leonard snorts, like that idea is blasphemous. “Borrowed it.”

“Of course,” she sighs, resigned, and drains the rest of her coffee.

He doesn’t drive like a maniac, which she appreciates. He does drive in direction of the waterfront, though. Iris has a brief moment of panic, seeing herself float down the river with a head wound, and rolls her eyes. Even if Leonard didn’t give a shit about her, he wouldn’t involve an unarmed woman in any situation that was dangerous for her, even without his and Barry’s deal. She’s pretty sure, anyway.

“What are we doing here?” she asks, leaning forward in her seat to inspect the parking lot he’s driving into.

He doesn’t answer until he’s found a parking spot. “Let’s just say I’d appreciate it if you took your reporter hat off.”

Ha! Regular citizen, her ass. “Off the record?”

“Preferably.”

Oh, well. She shrugs, “Sure.”

Like a gentleman he takes her empty coffee cup from her once they’re out of the car, throwing it away with his, then takes off down the street. It’s not a part of the city that Iris is familiar with, and she enjoys peeking into the windows of the small shops, a little exhilarated at the fact that Leonard slows down with her every time, not giving away whether he’s in a hurry.

“Up for ice cream?” he asks as they walk further down the street, obviously pleased when she just gives him a confused look.

She’s a little less confused when they are in the ice cream parlor of his choosing and he pulls a thick envelope out of the inside of his coat—definitely cash—and hands it to the guy behind the till. Iris’s hand twitches at her side, itching to get her notebook and pen out and ask a few questions.

“The usual?” the guy asks Leonard with a suspicious side glance at Iris but seems to be satisfied when Leonard gives him a sharp nod. He has a thick Italian accent, but Iris guesses he’s not affiliated with the Santinis. “Now, what can I get you?”

Leonard actually buys them ice cream.

“It’s a front,” she says dubiously when they’re out of the shop, inspecting her scoop of mint chip. He snorts and digs into his own ice cream (strawberry, who would have thought?).

“Still the best gelato in all of Central,” he says.

She scrapes a minimal amount off it with her plastic spoon, hesitantly putting it into her mouth.

“Oh my god,” she says and takes another spoonful, unable to stifle an obscene sound that makes Leonard smirk. “Oh my god, this is good.”

He just gives her a smug look.

They stroll back in direction of the parking lot, making idle small talk. And it’s starting to feel a lot like a date, isn’t it? It’s not like Iris is averse to that, obviously, but her heart pounds harder in her chest and her hands start getting clammy at the idea that something could actually come out of this. That something is at stake.

“What do you do these days, anyway?” Leonard asks her when they’ve both finished eating and arrive back at his—well, not his, exactly—car in the parking lot.

“Well, apart from S.T.A.R. Labs,” she says and brushes her hair out of her face, “I’ve actually started my own newspaper.”

“Oh? Someone’s gotta tell those other newspapers to watch out then.” He leans against the car with his arms crossed, and Iris can’t help but feel like he’s trying to draw this out.

She huffs a laugh and takes a step closer. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Maybe.” His voice’s gotten so low that it sends a pleasant shiver down her spine, eyes intent on her. “If you want it to be.”

“Leonard…” she says softly, and the air stretches thin between them. She’s suddenly breathing heavy, lips parting, and she’s sure that he knows what kind of effect he has on her, judging by the glint in his eyes.

Then he makes an abrupt movement and clears his throat, effectively cutting through the spell. He all but rips the passenger door open.

“Let’s get you home,” he says, eyes on some point in the distance. The roughness of his voice shoots straight into Iris’ core.

“Right,” she whispers and slips into the car, putting on the seat belt.

The drive home is quiet. Leonard starts drumming on his leg or the steering wheel with his fingers for a few times until he realizes what he’s doing just a few seconds later and stops. She’s unable to stop sneaking glances at him, but he doesn’t look in her direction even once.

“Here we are,” he says after he’s pulled into a parking space near her apartment building. He exhales an irritated sounding sigh when she makes no move to get out of the car. “What, are you expecting a kiss goodbye?”

He sounds so snarky that she has to bite down on a smile.

“Would only be fair, right?” she says, watching as he goes still. “After all, you seem to have no issues kissing my husband.”

He turns the car off. Finally looks at her, even if he’s not quite meeting her eyes.

“What are you and Barry looking for, Iris? A threesome? Because I’m not sure I’m the right guy for the job.”

Iris can’t help but chuckle, “You make it sound like a chore.” She sucks her lower lip into her mouth, satisfied when he watches the movement. She drops her voice, “Haven’t you ever thought about it before? Didn’t you like it when you saw us together?”

The silence she gets in reply is answer enough. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

She reaches out to adjust the collar of his coat. “Why don’t you come up and we’ll discuss it?”

His eyes are still on her lips. He sounds resigned when he answers her, but Iris swears that there’s a breathless undertone.

“Fine. We’ll discuss it.”

 

*

 

They don’t discuss it.

Upstairs she takes his coat to hang it with the other jackets. She can’t take her eyes off him but he doesn’t seem to mind, a smirk pulling at his lips. The evening sun paints the whole apartment in a warm orange glow, and he looks breathtaking.

Iris reaches out for him.

“If you want me to stop, please tell me,” she says softly, waiting to touch him until he gives her an aborted nod. She lightly grips his shoulder and touches the fingers of her other hand to his jaw, sliding her hand down to the side of his neck.

He’s just as tall as Barry, which means that she has to go up on her toes, making her motive painfully obvious. But he’s the one bringing their faces closer together, leaning down a little, and Iris’s breath hitches when their noses brush.

When did it happen that she started to feel this deeply for him? When did it happen that being this close to him makes her weak in the knees, like she isn’t able to stay upright without support?

It’s like they’re in limbo for a few seconds, not moving a muscle, just breathing each other in. Iris doesn’t have to decide if she should just go for it—Leonard pulls her closer with his hand on the small of her back, bringing their bodies flush together. She isn’t able to suppress a soft moan at how good it is, so tantalizing how her breasts are pressed against his torso, somehow hyperaware that he can feel it, too, and Leonard takes that opportunity to fit his mouth to hers.

Iris feels it in her toes when their lips touch, and she presses closer, pulling him harder against her by the back of his neck, coaxing his mouth open with little nips to his bottom lip. He makes an amused sound but opens up for her eagerly. He still tastes a little like strawberry, so innocent in contrast to how he makes her feel.

It was supposed to be a simple kiss, a way to test the waters, but now that she has him she can’t get enough. It’s electrifying, kissing him, the slick slide of their tongues just as titillating as the confirmation that he wants this as much as she does.

She only realizes they’ve been moving backwards when her ass bumps into the sideboard, and then he’s gripping the back of her thighs and lifting her onto it, her keys clattering to the floor, and she’s licking into his mouth and squeezing her legs around his hips, and his hands slide down to grip her ass for leverage as he grinds into her, and she moans in encouragement when she feels the distinct line of his cock brush her inner thigh—

“Oh.”

They break apart, heads snapping in direction of the closed front door.

In front of which her husband is standing, like he’s frozen to the spot. He looks like he just phased inside like he does so often, too impatient to use his key. His mouth is parted and there’s an inscrutable look on his face as he takes them in.

“Barry,” Iris says, clearing her throat when her voice comes out raspy. “I—”

He cuts her off with a short shake of his head, taking a step closer. Leonard’s hands convulse on her, like he’s not sure if he should draw attention to how he’s touching her, not sure if he should flee or if Barry’s about to attack him.

Barry licks his lips and takes another step in their direction, almost predatory, eyes glinting, and Iris’s panties stick to her skin with how wet she suddenly is, clit throbbing. She wants to rub herself against Leonard, wants to feel how hard he is, wants his clever fingers inside of her, and Barry’s no doubt picked up on that, the way he’s looking at them.

He speeds the last few steps to fit himself to Leonard’s back and lets his lips linger on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, arms wrapping around his waist, and all the tension flows out of Leonard in one uneven breath.

Iris and Barry make eye contact over Leonard’s shoulder and share a brief smile before she leans back in to kiss Leonard again. He pulls back after a moment and Iris rests her hands on his chest.

“You’ve really talked about this, huh?” he says and turns his head to look at Barry, who breathes a soft affirmative and brushes a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. Leonard reaches for his face to hold him there and kiss him properly. Iris never thought that seeing her husband kiss someone else with that much passion would excite her instead of make her jealous. She waits for them to part and meets Leonard’s eyes when he turns back to look at her.

“So,” Iris says, “are you in, Leonard?”

He smirks, averts his gaze. “I think if we’re doing this,” he says and thumbs at the button of Iris’s pants, making her shiver, “you can call me Len.”

There’s a pause. Then—

“Len,” Barry and Iris say at the same time.

Leonard snorts. The amusement is gone quickly though, his eyes becoming heavy-lidded, and Iris is confused for a moment before she sees that Barry’s grinding against him. Her arousal returns with full force.

“Bedroom?” she breathes. Both of them nod and, well. Barry takes his duty as the Flash very seriously.

 

*

 

Once he’s flashed them into the bedroom, Barry barely knows what to do with himself.

He doesn’t even know how Iris and Leonard came to make out like that in their loft, but it’s undoubtedly one of the hottest things he’s ever seen. And now they’re standing right there in front of him, looking so beautiful, and he has to force himself to slow down to their speed even though he feels like he could vibrate out of his skin.

This is happening, and it’s happening right now, and Barry wants—he just _wants_.

Iris’ blouse and Barry’s sweater are gone quickly, but Leonard seems to be a little reluctant about showing skin.

Barry licks his lips, glances at Iris and back at Leonard. “Len, you don’t have to— I mean…”

But Leonard’s already pulling his shirt out of his pants, unbuttoning it, giving them an exasperated look when they both blatantly watch him. Barry’s breath catches when he shrugs the shirt off, because—

“You’re gorgeous,” he breathes and reaches out, waiting to touch the bare skin of his chest until Leonard nods his okay. Goosebumps rise on his arms as Barry strokes his hands over them, light-headed from how much skin is on display, taking note of his scars and the odd tattoo here and there.

Iris comes up next to them and winks at Barry before hip-checking him away to take his place in front of Leonard, laughing when he pouts.

“Get those clothes off, honey,” she says to him, smile softening, and turns back to Leonard to tuck a finger into the waistband of his pants. “And those could go, too, if you like.”

Barry almost falls over while pulling down his pants because he’s too focused on Leonard working on his belt and unbuttoning his slacks, letting them fall to the ground so he can kiss Iris. She teases the tips of her fingers along the waistband of his black boxer briefs, and Barry can’t do anything but watch, scared that he’ll ruin the moment if he so much as moves.

But Leonard blindly reaches out for him to pull him closer to them until they’re huddled together, their bodies so warm at Barry’s sides, and Leonard breaks the kiss to seamlessly capture Barry’s lips. It’s almost too good.

Barry makes an appreciative sound when he feels Iris move to unclip her bra—she snorts when they stop kissing to watch her take it off, stepping back to give her underwear the same treatment, the first of them without any clothes covering her body.

Leonard looks slightly in awe, and Barry is inclined to sympathize. The first time he saw Iris naked, he… well. Let’s just say that it was over _way_ too soon. He’s a little worried that the same will happen to him with Leonard, because he can barely look at him wearing nothing but a pair of underwear, cock outlined beneath the fabric.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Iris asks Leonard, and he lifts a shoulder, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. They’re a sight to behold.

“I just wanna watch,” he says with a glance at Barry, then smirks, “For now.”

Iris smiles, “That we can do.”

She pushes him onto the bed, kissing him as soon as he sits up with his back against the headboard, then turns around to settle between his legs, her back to his chest. He wraps his arms around her with minor hesitation, fingers brushing the undersides of her breasts and her stomach like he isn’t sure how he’s allowed to touch her. Iris rests her hand on his forearm to keep him there, to signal that it’s fine, before looking up at Barry.

“C’mere,” she says. Barry nods quickly and slides off his boxers and climbs onto the bed, cock bobbing between his legs. He leans over her so he can press a kiss to Leonard’s mouth that he returns enthusiastically—who knew that Captain Cold likes kissing so much—and turns his attention to Iris after a minute, brushes kisses down her neck and licks over a nipple.

She makes an impatient sound and Barry huffs a laugh, sitting up on his knees and pulling her a little further down the bed by her legs. She opens them readily for him, and his mouth waters when he sees how wet she is.

Leonard seems to have changed his mind about ‘just watching’—he shares a look with Barry over Iris’s shoulder and wets his lips, then leans forward a little so he can watch as he trails his hand down her stomach and between her legs. Iris whines when his hand finds its target, gently circling her swollen nub with two fingers before pushing them into her.

“Yeah,” Iris breathes when he starts thrusting them, brushing her clit with his thumb, “Just like that, Len…”

There’s a momentary flash of envy in Barry—Leonard knows exactly what he’s doing, knows how to make Iris whimper and beg for more, fingers working her pussy expertly, chuckling when she claws at his arm and rocks her hips up against his hand. Barry’d been so awkward the first time they slept together, needed her to tell him exactly how to touch her, what felt good.

He rips his gaze away from between her legs to see that both Iris and Leonard are watching him. The attention makes his face heat up and he can’t help but grin a little.

It’s enough to spur him into action. He leans down and slides his hands up Iris’s legs, lifting them so that her knees are framing his face, and she crosses her ankles against his shoulders, pulling him further in. The new angle makes Leonard’s fingers slide out of her, glistening with her slick, and Barry pants at the sight, moaning when Leonard presses his fingers against Barry’s lips and he sucks them into his mouth. Leonard’s eyes go dark when he licks them clean, tongue stroking along the digits.

And then he lets his fingers slide from his mouth and bends further down to lick a broad stripe from Iris’s hole to her mound, and she cries out when he sucks at her clit before fucking his tongue into her, reveling in her taste. It’s always so heady, having proof of how turned on she is, pussy contracting around the tip of his tongue. There’s a hand in his hair, _Leonard’s_ hand, pressing lightly against the back of his head to guide his movements, and it’s so unbearably hot that Barry can’t help but touch himself to relieve some of his arousal.

“Barry, you look…” Leonard’s voice is so raspy, and Barry looks up at him as well as he can with his face buried between his wife’s legs. He looks more affected than Barry’s ever seen him, a tint of pink high on his cheeks that makes him all the more attractive, lips damp from licking them. Leonard shakes his head and curls his hand tighter into Barry’s hair, guiding him against Iris a bit rougher, exhaling shakily when they give him appreciative moans in response. “You both look fantastic.”

To hear something like that from Leonard Snart is nothing short of fantastic.

“Iris— Can I—”

“Please,” she pants, and they rearrange themselves, Barry going up on his knees with her legs around his waist so he can guide himself into her, groaning when his cock is enveloped in tight, slick heat.

Leonard doesn’t quite seem to know where to look, gaze darting from where Barry’s burying himself in Iris, to her breasts that are jiggling with the impact when Barry fucks into her to Barry’s face, back to between their legs.

Barry rolls his hips, not really bothering to go slow because they’re too far gone already, and Leonard watching them is too erotic to try and last long.

Iris makes the most beautiful sounds as he thrusts into her, turning her head up to kiss Leonard, cupping his cheek to hold him in place. Barry holds onto her hips for leverage so he can go a bit harder and bites down hard on his lip when Leonard pushes his hand between Iris’s legs again to rub her clit. It makes his fingertips brush Barry’s cock with each thrust, the fleeting touches so intoxicating that Barry knows he’s not gonna be able to hold on much longer.

Iris, bless her, senses that he’s close.

“Come on honey, you can, _mh yes_ , you can let go,” she says softly.

Barry curses and slides his hands under the small of her back, tilting her up, and she’s squeezing her legs around his waist, moaning and clutching at Leonard’s arms around her.

He whimpers when the tension coils tight before releasing hard and he’s emptying himself inside of her, filling her up. There’s no feeling like it. He only realizes how loud he’s been groaning when Iris giggles and he opens his eyes to catch Leonard smirking at him.

“Good boy,” Leonard murmurs, and Barry feels his face go hot, the corners of his mouth twitching up without his say-so. He pulls out and intends to finish Iris off with his fingers, but Leonard stops him, “Let me.”

Barry flops onto his side next to Iris and watches with interest as Leonard climbs out from behind her. Seeing his cock strain his underwear almost makes him ask Leonard to fuck him, but he’s not sure they’re quite there yet—instead, he shares an intimate glance with Iris and knows that she knows exactly what he’s thinking.

Leonard settles on his stomach between Iris’s legs, and she’s nodding and tilting her hips up before he even has to ask. He snorts and slides his arms under her legs to adjust the angle, to spread her open, and with a wink at Barry he lowers his mouth onto her, starting to eat her out like he’s on a mission. And he’s _good_.

Iris swears, eyes rolling back, and grips Barry’s arm for something to hold onto, to stop herself from fidgeting too much, but she can’t seem to keep herself from rocking against his face, getting muffled encouragements in reply.

In that moment it sinks in for Barry that he just—he just came inside of Iris, and Leonard is tasting both of them, lapping up the come that’s leaking out of her. Just like that, he’s rock-hard again, but he can’t even think of touching himself. He doesn’t want to miss a single moment of this.

Iris gasps when Leonard gets his fingers into her, glancing up at her face as he sucks lightly on her clit the way Barry knows drives her crazy.

“Len,” she whines, stroking the hand that’s not clinging to Barry’s arm over his short-cropped hair. “I’m so close, I’m—oh fuck—”

Barry can _hear_ Leonard’s fingers speed up, plunging into her, and then Iris is shaking, thighs clamping around his head, keening while Leonard works her through her orgasm.

“Oh,” she breathes, staring up at the ceiling, and Barry huffs a laugh and kisses her cheek. Leonard looks a little smug when he comes up for air, smearing kisses to the insides of her thighs. The corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and once again Barry is reminded of just how much he’s into him.

“I can take care of that for you,” Leonard murmurs. His focus is on Barry but he keeps on stroking Iris’s thigh with his thumb while her breathing calms down. Barry doesn’t even get what he’s talking about until Leonard nods to where he’s still achingly hard between his legs.

“Um,” Barry says, eloquent as ever.

He has a sudden, ridiculous urge to pull the blankets over himself. Thankfully, he doesn’t get the chance to do so because Leonard’s climbing over Iris and then his body is covering Barry’s and they’re kissing, sharing Iris’s taste, and Barry is going out of his mind from the feeling of Leonard’s cock hard against his hip, still covered by the fabric of his underwear. 

This is kind of Leonard’s thing, isn’t it—figuring out exactly what Iris and Barry need from him, the things they can’t verbalize, the things they maybe even didn’t know themselves they wanted until it’s right there. It’s almost like he’s a different person in here, and Barry’d be worried that he’s putting up a front if he didn’t feel so real. 

Leonard chuckles when Iris tugs down his underwear, and _god_ , that’s his cock, rubbing against Barry’s. And then Leonard’s squeezing a hand between them to swirl his palm around their heads, gathering wetness for a smoother glide and starts to stroke them and—

Yep. Barry’s gonna die. He can practically feel his soul leave his body. It’s fine. There’s more than enough other superheroes in Central City, and they don’t need him _that_ badly, right? If he dies now or vanishes in 2024… what’s five more years, anyway? He’d rather go out like this.

Predictably, it doesn’t take long for Barry to come a second time, but at least Leonard’s into it. He pushes himself up on his arm so he can watch as Barry comes between them, slicking up Leonard’s hand. Then Iris is there, grinning at Leonard as she pushes his hand out of the way and wraps her own around his cock, making him groan—shit, the image of her small hand moving on him will be etched into Barry’s mind forever. He gives in to the urge to take Leonard’s stained hand and licks his own come off it, sucking two fingers into his mouth.

Leonard watches him with parted lips, panting, before his gaze drops down to where Iris is stroking him. His eyes flutter closed and he gasps, fucking into Iris’s hand a few quick times before he comes, spurting over her fingers and Barry’s stomach.

“Fuck,” he gasps, circling his hips to prolong his orgasm. Then he very gently collapses on top of Barry, making him giggle. Iris snorts at them while she wipes off her hand on a tissue and Leonard huffs a laugh into Barry’s neck before he rolls off him, into the space between him and Iris.

Barry strokes his fingers down Leonard’s arm. “Stay with us tonight?”

There’s a flicker of uncertainty on Leonard’s face. He wets his lips and looks at Iris, who gives him an encouraging smile.

“You can leave if you want to, of course,” she says, voice soft, “but we’d love it if you stayed.”

Leonard holds her gaze a moment longer. Then he sighs.

“I suppose I could stay.” The words come out a bit grumpy, but the twitch of his mouth belies his tone. “You guys got a shower?”

“I’ll show you,” Iris says. She offers her hand to him and he lets himself be pulled up, and another wave of arousal shoots through Barry as he watches them go, hand drifting back to his cock.

Iris laughs when she comes back into the bedroom after the shower has turned on. She shakes her head at Barry but grins all the same, crawling over him to kiss him and let him play with her breasts as he gets himself off one more time.

Later when they’re all clean and in bed with each other, Iris and Barry snuggling into Leonard between them, Barry thinks, _it doesn’t get any better than this_.

 

*

 

Homemade pancakes and fresh Jitters coffee—this isn’t how Len thought he’d spend his morning.

“These are amazing,” he tells Barry, who beams at him and murmurs a soft _thanks_ before turning back to his own plate. Iris is watching Len with twinkling eyes over the rim of her mug, and Len just raises an eyebrow at her when she hooks her foot around his ankle under the table.

It’s sickeningly domestic. The worst part is that he almost falls for it.

He takes a pull of his coffee and sets the mug down on the table.

“So,” he says, then hesitates. But better to get that conversation out of the way right now, right? Even though just the thought of talking about it kind of makes him want to repeat his stunt with the Oculus. Lisa would be proud of him. He hopes she'll never find out. “How’d you imagine this will work?” He sighs when they both give him quizzical looks. “You know, me, and you two. Together. Was this a one-off? Or should I be expecting the Scarlet Speedster to literally sweep me off my feet whenever you have certain… _needs_.”

Iris coughs around a sip of tea, and Barry slowly lowers his fork to the table. They exchange a meaningful look that makes Len snort.

“That’s not…” Barry takes a deep breath and tilts his head, probably looking for the right words.

“Look, I get it,” Len says. If they notice him laying on the drawl a bit thick, they don’t show it. “I can go, if you like. I’m a grown man, there’s no need to let me down easy.”

“ _No_. Len, hey.” Iris covers his hand with hers, and it’s so warm and soothing that he doesn’t even feel the urge to pull away. “The thing is, we’d like to make this a little more… permanent. You know, make it into something more than just sex.”

Barry nods in agreement and smiles at him. “If you’ll have us.”

Len blinks. Well, that’s… certainly interesting. But before he can get his thoughts in order, a streak of yellow and purple lightning bursts into the loft.

Right, Nora. Nora West-Allen. He hasn't exactly _forgotten_ that the West-Allens have a daughter in the future who’s gallivanting around the present, for whatever reason. It’s just easier not to think about it, ever, especially considering that she was the one to first contact him.

Huh.

She was the one to bring them all together in the first place, wasn’t she?

“Sorry, sorry,” Nora says once she’s come to a stop, “Carry on. I just need— Oh.” Her demeanor barely changes when she catches sight of Len, except for a small smile pulling at her lips. Len draws his hand back from under Iris’s. Something about the situation just screams _wrong_ , and he’s so close to figuring out what it is. Nora clears her throat, “Hi. You know what, I’m gonna come back later.”

She uses her speed to hug Iris and smack a kiss to Barry’s cheek in quick succession, shooting another smile at Len before she flashes out of the loft. Her parents look after her with fond expressions before turning back to Len.

“Right, so—” Barry starts but cuts himself off when Len harshly pushes his chair away from the table. “Len?”

Len shakes his head. He can’t help but bark out a laugh, noticing faintly that Iris and Barry look nothing short of bewildered.

It all makes sense now.

Nora got him the cold gun. The fancy future cold gun. The cold gun that made sure that Len was able to rob that transport and get back on the Flash’s radar.

Nora was there after he saved Barry from that nuclear meta and brought him to an old hideout of his and Mick’s, just to be able to have him a little longer after being away for so long—being his _stupid_ , _sentimental_ self.

Nora was with Iris at Jitters when Len ran into her, effectively setting them up. He wouldn’t even be surprised if she convinced her parents to attend that gala. And he let himself be shoved around like a figure on a playing field, even though he swore he’d never let anyone do that again after the Time Masters. After the Oculus.

“In that future Nora is from,” he says slowly, and he can sense the moment they catch on that he’s figured it out even though he’s not looking at them, “She told you that I’m with you, didn’t she? One way or another. And you believed her… and tried to make that future happen…” He gets up, steps away from the table while two pairs of wide eyes follow him. “I’m leaving.”

Barry catches up with him before he can take two steps in direction of the front door, of course he does. Iris isn’t far behind.

“Wait, Len—”

“Don’t touch me,” Len hisses when Barry reaches out for him, satisfied when he snatches his hand back.

“It’s not like that. It’s never been like that,” Barry says. The pleading look in his eyes is almost enough to tug at Len’s heartstrings. “If you just let us explain…”

Len shakes his head sharply and finally gets his legs to move to the entrance of the loft, the sideboard he’d kissed Iris on sitting there like it’s mocking him. He clenches his jaw and retrieves his coat, shrugging it on.

“I get it,” he says, turning to smirk at them. Iris looks devastated, clutching Barry’s arm, but it’s not like Len’s at fault here. He wishes he had his cold gun with him, its reassuring weight at his side. Maybe it’d make him feel less like there’s a hole in his chest. “Preserving the timeline, right? Important business.” Barry flinches at his words, and Len rolls his eyes. “I’m not ever gonna be a pawn again. So you can stop trying to force this. No need to pretend like you— like this could ever work.”

He spits out the words, pretending that his voice didn’t crack on that last sentence and turns around, pushing the front door open and letting it fall shut behind him.

They don’t follow him, which suits him just fine.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :-)


	6. VI.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! /o\

“You have to get up at some point, babe.”

Iris just shrugs, as well as one can shrug while lying down, and buries her face in the bed sheets. Barry sighs and slides in behind her, wrapping his arm around her middle. It physically hurts seeing her like this, suffering, and it’s even worse that Barry has no idea what the hell he could do to make it better. Except that he kind of wants to punch Len for inflicting this kind of pain on her, even if he didn’t intend to.

“Do you think he’s right?” Iris whispers.

“What?”

Iris turns on her back. “Do you think we’re—do you think _I_ am projecting my feelings? That it’s not real? That maybe the timeline has changed, and there’s no need pretending because there’s a future where we’re not…”

She draws a shuddering breath, then throws an offended look at Barry when he snorts. He drags his thumb down her cheek.

“Do you remember your reaction when Nora told us the first time?” he asks her.

“What do you mean?”

Barry twirls a strand of hair around his finger, smiling when she huffs at him. “I mean, that day she told us about Leonard, about _Len_ , you were a little uncomfortable but you… you didn’t really reject the idea, did you? You just accepted it, that he’s such a big part of your life in the future. Why?”

Iris stares at the ceiling. She shakes her head.

“I’m not sure. I didn’t really wanna think about it. But in the end it kind of felt,” she takes a deep breath, “It felt right. Like some part of me knew it was bound to happen, deep down.”

Still smiling, Barry presses a kiss to her temple. “Do you know why I was so happy?” he murmurs against her skin, and she turns her head to glance at him.

“‘Cause you’ve had the worst crush on him for ages?”

He laughs softly, dropping his gaze. His face is heating up, but there’s no point in denying it.

“Apart from that. Nora told me about what happens to me in her time. That I’m gone. I was really upset, and scared, but then when she told us about Len… I was so happy that, you know, that at least you’re not alone, if we can’t figure out how to stop me from disappearing. That you have someone you can lean on through all of it. Someone to hold you. To love you.”

Silent tears are running down Iris’s face, and Barry grabs a tissue from the nightstand to wipe them away before he continues, “That he has someone, too.”

“Oh, Barry,” Iris sighs, voice so wobbly that his heart aches. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine,” he says softly, huffing a laugh when she scoffs. “You were the one to tell me he’s being defensive. That he’s trying to distance himself, remember? Of course he drew the wrong conclusions, it’s just self-preservation.”

Iris nods, albeit reluctantly.

“Iris.” He waits until she meets his gaze. “We’re not gonna just give up on him like that and— I know it sounds conceited, but I doubt he’ll be able to stay away.”

That earns him a choked laugh, and he grins. They both startle when a knock sounds from the bedroom door.

“Are you guys decent?” Nora inquires from outside the door. Iris hastily rubs her hands over her face to get rid of stray tears.

“Yeah, you can come in,” Barry says and lifts his head.

Nora sticks her head inside, takes one look at her mom, and curses. She hurries into the room and sits down on the floor next to their bed, reaching for Iris’s hand.

“What’s wrong, Mom?”

“Nothing, sweetie. I’m fine.”

Nora looks dubious. (Yeah, Barry wouldn’t believe it either, if he were her.) She chews on her lip and glances at Barry, then back at Iris.

“It’s Lenny, isn’t it?” Nora nods once when Iris just sighs in reply. “Right. I’m gonna talk to him.”

“That’s not gonna be necessary—”

“No, Dad.” There’s a determined look on her face that Barry knows from himself—nothing he could say would be able to change her mind. “It’s my mess, I’m gonna fix it.” She presses the back of her mom’s hand to her cheek. “I promise.”

 

*

 

Len doesn’t make a habit of getting drunk, not since he’s needed to stay sharp at all times whenever he’s in public due to his reputation. But since he’s been gone for so long and his reputation is in shambles…

“‘nother,” he tells Shawna, who gives him a slightly disapproving look but fills his shot glass anyway. He chose this exact bar for two reasons, number one being that certain people he wants to avoid don’t know of it. And secondly because of the fact that Shawna never asks many questions.

He narrows his eyes when the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and a few moments later someone slides onto the seat next to him.

Fucking speedsters.

“Thought nobody knew about this place,” he says, mostly to himself.

Baby Flash orders a water from Shawna before answering.

“I know about it,” she says, probably just to annoy him. It works. “You should stop drinking if you wanna make it home in one piece.”

He throws her an unimpressed look and drains his drink in one go, signaling Shawna, who fills his glass up again. Good sport. Nora just rolls her eyes.

“Why are you being such a stubborn dick?” she hisses after Shawna’s turned away.

Len snorts. “‘m not stubborn. I jus’ know when something’s not supposed to be.”

Nora clenches her jaw and takes a sip of water. Len didn’t know that baby Flashes could look so fierce.

“You’re right. Maybe it’s not meant to be,” she says eventually. Len almost flinches at that, and the twitch of her mouth tells him that she noticed. “Maybe not right now. Maybe I… pushed a little too hard, too soon.”

She gives him a penetrating stare, like she’s trying to figure him out. Good luck with that, ‘cause he hasn’t been able to do that himself, lately. But whatever she sees seems to satisfy her—she takes a worn book (a journal?) out of her bag and flips through it, stilling when she finds whatever she’s looking for. She blows a strand of hair out of her face and looks up at him again, slowly pulling a piece of paper out from between the pages of the book, then sets it down in front of him.

He almost chokes on his drink when he looks at it. He pushes the glass away from him, hands gripping the edge of the bar top so hard that his wrist cramps. He barely feels it.

The piece of paper is a photograph. And in it are him, and Barry, and Iris. They don’t look much older, maybe three or four years—his hair is a little greyer, a little shorter. But… it looks like they’re in a hospital, Iris sitting up against the headboard of a bed looking exhausted but happy, snuggled into the covers. And Len’s sitting next to her on the edge of the bed and he’s holding—

He glances at Nora, who is pointedly studying her fingernails.

He’s holding her, as a baby. He can’t make out the baby’s face, bundled up in a blanket, but it is undoubtedly Barry and Iris’s newborn child. And he’s smiling down at her like he’s never known himself to smile before. Like he’s genuinely happy. Barry’s standing on the other side of the bed with a hand resting on Iris’s back, face so full of adoration as he looks at Len and the baby that Len can’t bear it.

He pushes the photograph in Nora’s direction so he doesn’t have to look at it anymore, clenching his fists.

“Mom always carries it with her,” Nora says softly. “She’s gonna be so mad I took it.”

“Why,” he chokes out, not able to specify what he means, but Nora understands.

“You’re part of my family,” she says, like it’s that simple. “They love you. I love you.”

Len drags a hand over his face. They shouldn’t have a conversation like this in public.

“I’ve never been a family person,” he says. The sight of the shot of vodka in front of him makes his stomach turn. “That’s not me.”

“What about your sister?”

He huffs, “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Nope.” Talk about being stubborn. Len glances at Shawna to see that she’s serving someone at the other side of the bar.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks, turning to look at Nora. She looks so much like her parents. He can’t believe that he didn’t figure it out the first time he met her.

“What exactly?”

“Why are you here instead of in the future where you belong?”

Nora drops her gaze and stuffs the photograph back into her journal. “It’s complicated.”

“Uh-huh. Heard that one before.”

Nora sighs, “Dad’s gone. Vanished in a fight five years from now, and never came back.”

Len swallows thickly. Must be the alcohol that that admission is like a punch to the gut. He really shouldn’t have had that last drink.

“And now you’re here to stop him from disappearing?”

“Mh-hm.”

He huffs a laugh. These do-gooders never learn, do they?

“Didn’t think there could be someone who’s just as smart and just as _stupid_ as Bar—as your dad.” Saying _dad_ in relation to Barry Allen must be one of the weirdest things he’s ever done.

“What do you mean?”

“Time travel. If you change the present too much you could literally write yourself out of existence.” He doesn’t mention that he, too, once tried to change his past and didn’t care about whether he lived to tell the tale just as long as him and Lisa were spared from Lewis’s wrath. And look how that turned out.

Nora presses her lips together and shrugs. That’s when he realizes—

“But you know that, don’t you,” he murmurs. “You’d risk your own skin for this? Why?”

The look Nora fixes him with is determined. Reminds him of his sister, just a little.

“So that Dad can be with his family. So that you and Mom don’t lose the love of your lives, forever. I don’t care that I might cease to exist and become someone new, someone completely different in the future. It’s worth it.”

“Christ.” She must have thought about it a lot. He doesn’t even know what to say, even when he’s ignoring the _love of his life_ aspect. (As if.) So he settles on, “You do know that sounds slightly suicidal?”

Nora snorts and shrugs again, and Len straightens up on his seat.

“Well, I think it’s high time for me to get home.” He reaches for his wallet just to freeze up, ‘cause—it can’t be. But his wallet isn’t in his jacket anymore where it belongs. Next to him, Nora coughs, very poorly masking a laugh as she puts a handful of bills on the counter. Bills that came from his wallet.

She holds it out to him and he snatches it from her hand. “ _How_?”

“I had a good teacher. And also,” she wiggles her fingers, “speedy hands.”

“Oh, god. Your parents are gonna kill me.”

Nora giggles and helps him off the barstool—he could’ve done it on his own, he just chose not to, thank you very much—and accompanies him to the door. He can practically feel Shawna’s curious stare on his back before the door slams shut behind them.

“Want me to give you a ride home?” Nora asks, smiling at him.

He gives his bike that’s parked outside of the bar a wistful look, then nods. Probably a good idea, in his condition.

 

*

 

Nora can’t believe Lenny let her into his actual home. She doesn’t think her parents even know where he lives.

She deposits him on a chair, which he promptly leaves, making a beeline for the bathroom and almost walking into the doorframe. Nora shakes her head and isn’t able to hold back a smile, looking for a glass to fill with water for him to drink later.

“Who. The _hell_. Are you?”

Nora’s heart skips a beat. She puts the glass down and turns around with raised hands. Sure enough, her Auntie Lisa is standing there with a gun aimed at her, face stuck somewhere between amused and enraged.

“Um, hi?” Nora says, glad when Lenny chooses that moment to come out of the bathroom.

“Jesus, Lise, chill out.”

Lisa does not chill out.

“Excuse me? Why is there a strange girl in your kitchen?” She hasn’t lowered the gun, but Nora sighs and drops her hands. If she wanted to shoot Nora, she already would’ve done it.

“I’m Nor—”

“She’s the,” Lenny interrupts her and gestures lazily with his hand, “the Flash’s daughter.”

Somehow he seems to find that so funny that he starts laughing, having to sit down because he’s swaying so badly. Lisa stares at him, then at Nora. Nora hopes she looks apologetic enough.

“I just brought him home, what with…” Him being drunk as a skunk.

“Right.” Lisa nods, finally letting her gun-hand fall to her side. “Now get out.”

Nora rolls her eyes but sets the glass of water down on the table in front of Lenny, then zips to the door before Lisa can change her mind about shooting her.

“Nice to meet you,” she says to Lisa, then, “Think about what I told you, Lenny, please?”

She speeds out of the house before one of them can call her on using his nickname.

 

*

 

“‘Lenny’?” Lisa turns to Len with her eyebrows raised. “And the Flash’s daughter, really? I don’t think that’s physically possible.”

Len just makes a noncommittal sound and pushes the glass of water away from him, looking at it with distaste. Yuck. Lisa snorts and drops into the chair opposite him.

“You know, you always turn into a toddler when you’re drunk. What happened?” She sighs when he just lifts a shoulder in reply. “Fine, then don’t tell your favorite sister what’s going on with you.”

What’s going on with him. That’s funny, even though he has no idea why. Still can’t stop himself from grinning at her. Jeez, why won’t the room stop spinning? He didn’t have _that_ much to drink.

Iris and Barry would enjoy seeing him like this. _No_. They wouldn’t. It’s all a lie.

But the picture Nora showed him…

He shakes his head to clear it and pinches the bridge of his nose. Tonight he’d rather think of anything else than him acting like a lovesick fool around the Flash and his wife, letting them take him to bed, letting them _see_ him without his clothes on, touching them, tasting them, making them come—

“Mercury Labs,” he says and points at Lisa. He manages not to slur, for the most part. “That was you, wasn’t it?” He vaguely remembers Iris telling him about the break-in at Jitters before they… Oh, here he goes thinking of them again.

Lisa’s mouth twitches into a smirk.

“Nice try changing the topic, jerk. But well, it wasn’t me, exactly. The girls were bored, and you still had the blueprints lying around…”

Len groans. Those girls are going to be a pain in his ass, he just knows it.

“So you’ve taken the _Young Rogues_ under your wing, huh? Babysitting?”

“Someone has to do it.” Her eyes widen. “Don’t tell Raya I said that.”

“I just might, if you don’t get the hell out of my apartment in the next two minutes.”

Lisa actually gets up without arguing, which tells Len enough about how pathetic he must look.

“Just… try to take care of yourself, Lenny,” she says before opening the door. “Not everyone’s out to get you, you know.”

Oh, that’s rich, coming from her. But she’s gone already, leaving Len to stare down at the table until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.

 

*

 

Len finds the fancy future watch Sara and Mick gave him before they dropped him off in 2019 in his sock drawer. He blames his shaking fingers when he puts it down on the kitchen table in front of him on the fact that he’s still hungover. Pressing the small button to turn the watch on, he does expect the small hologram of Gideon but still jumps when it appears in front of him.

“Mr. Snart,” Gideon says, “How can I help you?”

It’s almost a relief to hear her voice again.

“Gideon.” He clears his throat. “Could you put Sara on?”

The hologram seems to hesitate for the blink of an eye before it nods. “Right away, Mr. Snart.”

He hasn’t missed her calling him ‘Mr. Snart’, though. The Gideon-hologram transforms into a screen-like view of the front of the empty cockpit of the Waverider, and Len drums his fingers on the table as he waits. One minute. Four minutes. There’s movement on the screen after exactly seven minutes and 48 seconds, looking like a hassled Sara stumbling into the room. She’s out of breath when she steps in front of the screen, and—

“Are that twigs in your hair? Is that _blood_?”

She frowns at him. “Hello to you too, Leonard. So good to see you!”

Len snorts at her fake-enthusiastic tone. “Hello, Sara.”

“It’s not my blood. I think,” she says and looks down at her blouse that’s more red than white, then shrugs. Charming. “Look, what do you need? Should we plot a course for 2019? Gideon made it sound like an emergency.”

Of course she did. Len glances away from the screen and exhales.

“Not exactly. I guess I just wanted to… talk.”

“To talk,” she repeats dryly with a raised eyebrow and crosses her arms. “You expect me to believe that?”

He rubs a hand over his forehead, heart pumping a little harder. It takes a lot of willpower to not just hang up on her.

“Aren’t you in a relationship with that lady from the— time cops, or whatever?”

She gives him a miniscule nod. “Ava. What about her?”

He doesn’t know what he’s going to say until he’s saying it.

“How’d you know it’s real?”

Len’s throat is so dry that his words come out croaky, and it’s humiliating, but he refuses to look away from the screen. Sara’s expression smooths out almost immediately.

“Oh,” she says and rests her arms on the console, thinking on it. “I didn’t, at first. It took a while until we found our footing, so to say. I still can’t believe it some days.” When she smiles at him it’s warm, so different from how he knows her that he’s taken aback a little. It reminds him of his future self in the photograph that Nora showed him. “It’s hard to accept that people like us can be loved, Leonard. By people who aren’t, like, _supposed_ to love us. But it is possible, you know? You just have to get over yourself and let them in. Give them a chance to show you how much you mean to them.”

Len swallows hard. He hides his hands under the table, in case they’ll start shaking again.

“You know what this is about,” he says softly. She nods.

“Yeah. I am a time-traveler, you know. Hell of a surprise when we went to 2022 to help with—well, a crisis—and I was looking for you and caught you making out with the Flash’s pregnant wife.” She pauses. “It was hot, though.”

He huffs a laugh even as a ball of anxiety coils in his chest.

“You shouldn’t be telling me that.” (Jesus Christ.) “So what you’re saying is it’s inevitable and I should just give in to what time has in store for me?”

Sara groans, “ _No_. I’m saying you should stop putting yourself down and accept the fact that you’re allowed to be happy.” Her voice softens when he makes a skeptical sound. “You are, Leonard. You’re allowed to be happy. You’re allowed to let other people make you happy.”

He’s saved from having to react or, god forbid, reply to her by none other than Mick.

“ _Boss_ ,” his voice booms from afar, a moment before he enters the cockpit. Len blinks, confused until he realizes that Mick means Sara, not him. “Who do I have to fry to make you— Oh. Snart.”

Mick stops short as soon as he sees him on the screen, then makes a beeline for Sara with sure strides, pushing her away from the console.

“You bang Sparky yet?”

Len scowls, and Mick lets out an amused grunt when Sara starts laughing.

“I’m hanging up,” Len says, but he doesn’t get the chance to do so before Mick waggles his eyebrows at him and Sara yells a _Good luck_.

 

*

 

Against his better judgement, Len breaks into the West-Allen loft again. Iris and Barry haven’t tried to contact him, which he appreciates, but that also means that he’s going to have to take the first step. This time he has the cold gun with him, just for emotional support, but it still makes him want to fling himself into the Time Stream.

He doesn’t find them at the loft, though. Who he does find is their daughter, sitting at the dining table and frowning down at her phone. She doesn’t even look up when he walks up to the table.

“Hey, Lenny,” she says, then shoots him a quick smile. “My parents should be at S.T.A.R. Labs, if you’re looking for them.”

“Right,” he says, hesitant to turn back around and leave her alone. But the longer he stays, the more likely it is that she mentions his drunken adventures from the other night, and he’s not eager to revisit anything of what happened. “Are you okay?”

The words come out without his consent. So much for that.

She shrugs. “Nothing I can’t handle. I think.”

Len furrows his eyebrows and takes another step forward to peek at the display of the phone in front of her. He almost laughs when he sees the app that’s open.

“Baking? Taking up a new hobby?”

Nora makes a frustrated sound and pushes the phone away from her. “I want to do something nice for Joss but I can’t think of anything and it’s _awful_.”

Dear god. Len should’ve left when he had the chance. He clears his throat and sits down next to her, folding his hands on the table. The expression on Nora’s face is a mix of desperation and amusement.

“Well, she’s not gonna be impressed by a batch of cookies.” He grimaces at Nora’s pout. “Sorry. But if you want to do something nice… just steal her something. Doesn’t have to be diamonds, you know? Think small.”

Nora stares at him for a moment like she’s trying to figure out if he’s serious. (He is.)

“I’m not gonna _steal_ anything.”

So much like her father it’s bordering on painful.

“Hm.” Len can’t help the smirk pulling at his mouth. “Miss Jackam doesn’t need to know it’s not stolen, right?”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Huh. I don’t know if that’s an amazing idea or a terrible one, but thanks.” Nora’s smiling again, which, mission accomplished. “Weren’t you looking for my parents?”

Len can barely stop himself from rolling his eyes. He nods tightly and gets up, tapping on the tabletop once with his finger. “Good luck.”

“Lenny, wait.”

“Mh?”

Baby Flashes can be sneaky, too—a pair of arms close around his middle before he’s even registered that Nora has moved. Len blinks when she presses her cheek into his sweater, his hands hovering uselessly in the air until he gets them to move again. He pats her back a few times and her hold on him tightens before she finally pulls away. Somehow, it feels like a loss rather than relief.

“Thank you,” she mumbles and beams up at him. A second later she’s back at the table and typing away on her phone like Len isn’t even there.

Right.

“Guess it’s time to face the music,” he says under his breath and prays to whatever deity there is that there won’t be much traffic on the way to S.T.A.R. Labs.

He still doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, or what Barry _and_ Iris supposedly see in him, and he can’t fathom how in the future they’re so close that he’s with them when their child is born. That he’s some kind of… co-parent? In a non-traditional sense.

He’s never wanted to be a parent, not with Lewis showing him all the ways that could go wrong. But Nora… The thing is, he can see himself teaching her how to pick a lock, how to lift a wallet, then getting reprimanded by her parents even though they secretly think it’s hilarious.

The worst part is that he wants it so much, to be with those two. To have all the experiences that come with it. And Sara was right, as much as it pains him to admit it—for that to happen, he’s going to have to let them in. Make himself vulnerable. Risk that maybe they don’t want him, after all.

It’s a pity that he can only find that out by talking to them.

They’re not in the cortex when Len arrives at S.T.A.R. Labs, but Cisco and Dr. Snow are. They both startle when Len clears his throat, and it’s only his reflexes that keep him from getting impaled by an icicle.

“You can chill out, I’m not here to fight,” he says. His gaze flicks to Snow. “Or should I say, you can keep warm.”

Cisco groans and Dr. Snow shoots him an unimpressed look, herself again.

“Where are the mister and missus?”

They exchange a quick look before Cisco answers him. “Somewhere. Pipeline, maybe? Speed lab?” Len’s already turned around to search for them when he adds, “Don’t say you haven’t been warned, though.”

Len narrows his eyes. Warned about what, he doesn’t ask, because the two are at work again, discussing something with a microscope between them.

 

*

 

He understands what Cisco meant when he opens the door to one of the smaller labs a floor down and the first thing he sees is Barry with his back to him and Iris sitting on a table with her legs around his hips, both of them looking like deer in headlights when Len snorts and they realize they’ve got company.

“Seriously? In a lab?”

Barry turns around with his hands on his hips, pouting. Len is a little disappointed to see that he’s still fully clothed, even if his sweater is rumpled and his fly is undone. He wouldn’t have minded a peek.

Iris clears her throat and adjusts her skirt. “Look, either come in or get out, but can you please close that door?”

Len smirks and closes the door behind him, leaning against it.

“So.” Barry bites his lip. “Are you here to talk?”

Len pulls a face, “I wish I wasn’t.” He sighs when both of them look stricken, then shakes his head. “Look, I need to apologize for the other day. Running out on you. I might have been a little…”

“Overwhelmed?” Barry says when Len trails off, and Len throws him a half-hearted glare.

“I guess.” He takes a deep breath. “I just… you really want me?”

“More than anything,” Iris says without hesitating, and his breath hitches. Okay, this is it, Len. He just has to open his mouth. Any minute, now.

“Then I’m willing to give it a shot, whatever this is,” he finally manages, voice rough, hand curling around the cold gun in its holster to keep himself grounded. “If you’ll have me,” he echoes Barry’s words from a few days before back at them.

He only realizes that his eyes are on the ground when fingers slide under his chin, and he lifts his gaze.

“Of course we’ll have you,” Barry whispers, and then he kisses him, softly nipping at his bottom lip before pulling away. It’s only been a few days, but god, Len missed this. “What changed your mind?”

Len walks him backwards until they’re at the table Iris is sitting on, and he reaches for her hand. She’s smiling, eyes a little glassy as she intertwines her fingers with his.

“Sara Lance,” he tells them without elaborating. “And, uh, your daughter. She’s a real force of nature.”

Barry and Iris chuckle and he averts his eyes, a traitorous smile on his face.

“You should know,” Barry says softly, tracing his fingers down Len’s neck while Iris rubs her thumb over his knuckles. It’s so much sensation that he has to focus on listening to him. “This wasn’t an idea that Nora planted in our heads. I, um… I’ve liked you for a long time. Too long, probably. And Iris knew that.” There’s not much in Len’s head apart from a constant _fuck fuck fuck_. It’s slightly annoying. Barry pauses, prompting Len to look up again. Whatever he sees on his face makes him smile. “So you like us too, huh?”

“I plead the fifth,” Len sneers, relieved when it makes them laugh. “Weren’t you about to, you know… before I came in. Can we go back to that?”

Iris is still laughing but she pulls him between her legs by his belt, and Len is glad that the table she’s sitting on is so high that he doesn’t tower over her.

“Of course we can,” she grins and tilts her head up, and he takes the cue and kisses her, hands sliding around her waist. Lipstick is smearing between them but he barely notices it when she licks into his mouth, so sure of what she wants, before pulling back way too soon. Her breath is coming hard and her fingers are still on his belt. “Will you fuck us?”

It takes all the self-control Len has not to splutter. His cock is very much interested in whatever is going on, though.

“Wh— both of you?”

He glances at Barry who seems to be beyond speaking, redness high on his cheeks, inching closer to Len until he’s pressed into his side, Iris’s thigh caught between their bodies.

“Need you,” Iris breathes in lieu of an actual reply, and Len’s too turned on by their proximity to question it, even if they’re still in a goddamn _lab_.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he says and starts fiddling with the straps of his holster, trying to get it off, but Barry and Iris make protesting sounds.

“Keep it on,” Iris says, in that _voice_ , and Barry nods enthusiastically.

All right. Len’s just not gonna ask. He wouldn’t have an opportunity to, anyway, because Iris is unbuttoning his jeans and pulls the zip down with quick fingers, a mischievous look in her eye when she pulls him out of his underwear. He can’t help but moan at the feeling of her hand on his hardening cock. Barry’s eyes are half-lidded as he watches them.

He leans in to kiss Len as Iris starts stroking him, and Len gasps into his mouth and his hand finds the side of Iris’s neck, tracing his thumb along her jaw. He doesn’t know what to do with himself when Barry’s hand joins hers on his cock, twisting around the head before wandering down to cup his balls.

He’s fully hard so quickly it would be embarrassing, driblets of precome pooling in his slit, if he didn’t know that they’re just as eager as he is.

“Condom?”

God, Len hopes they have condoms. He noticed that they usually don’t seem to use any, which is hot in the right circumstances, and the right circumstances are probably not the first time he’s fucking Iris. Shit, he’s really gonna—

His cock twitches in her hand just thinking it, and she lets out a soft chuckle.

Barry presses another kiss to his mouth and nods, grinning as he fishes one from the pocket of his jeans, ripping it open. Iris pulls her hand away so he can slide it over Len’s cock— _fuck_ —and then she’s leaning back and Len’s pushing up her skirt, spreading her thighs. His mouth waters when he sees that her panties are soaked through. He glances at her face for confirmation and she gives him a smile and a nod, so he pulls her underwear down and lets them fall to the floor.

And then she’s wrapping her legs around him, and Len wraps his hand around his cock to rub it against her clit, smirking at her sharp intake of breath, before sliding down through her soaked folds until he finds her entrance.

Iris throws her head back, mouth open in a silent gasp when he grips her hip and presses into her, cursing at how well her pussy takes him. She squeezes her legs around him to pull him in further, so slick and hot around him that he has trouble breathing, bottoming out. Barry whines next to them when Len starts moving, and Iris huffs a breathless laugh and takes her husband’s hand to guide it between her legs to play with her swollen clit while Len picks up the pace of his thrusts until she’s positively whimpering.

Barry is still pressed to Len’s side, and Len blocks out his harsh breathing, how his clothed erection drags along Len’s hip with each thrust because he’d like to keep his sanity for a little while longer. Especially when the hand that’s not rubbing Iris’s clit slips into the back of Len’s pants and squeezes his ass through his boxers and a couple fingers press between his cheeks, down low until he’s full-on stroking his hole through the flimsy fabric, mirroring how he’s touching Iris.

It’s all Len can do not to shoot off right there and then like some teenager, groaning, eyes closing of their own accord.

“Good?” Barry asks, voice low. His fingers never slip from their target even when Len thrusts harder into Iris, who spurs him on with her moans.

“Yeah, fuck,” he presses out through gritted teeth, feeling himself clench. “You’re gonna, _mh_ , have to stop though or— _oh, shit_ —or I’m gonna come.”

Len doesn’t have to look at Barry to knows he’s grinning, but he acquiesces and pulls his fingers away, sliding his hand up to his lower back.

When Len is able to open his eyes again, Iris is looking right at his face, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She looks incredible, dark skin a little shiny from sweat, her eyes bright, pussy so gorgeous around his cock. In a feat of multitasking, Len pulls her blouse up and sneaks his hand under it to touch warm skin, sliding it up to one of her breasts to knead it through her bra.

“God, Len—yes—” she says and Barry lets out an encouraging moan, and it’s all so hot that Len has to remind himself not to come too soon. Thankfully, their team-effort is enough to nudge Iris over the edge first.

“I’m close,” she gasps out and Len pulls her legs higher so it’s easier to thrust into her, snapping his hips, the wetness between them smacking filthily with each impact. He pushes her bra up to rub her erect nipple with his thumb, and Barry starts fucking _vibrating_ his fingers on her clit—that’s definitely something Len is open to exploring a little more, jesus—and Iris is chanting _yes yes yes_ and then she’s coming, pressing her hand down on her mouth as she shouts out her orgasm, pussy clamping down hard on Len’s cock while he fucks her through it.

“Shit, Iris,” Len says and she laughs, her inner walls quivering around him as he lets go of her breast with a last, gentle flick against her nipple and eases out of her, Barry’s hand falling away. She sighs contentedly and scoots back a little to lean against the wall behind her.

Len doesn’t have time to catch his breath—Barry darts forward to kiss him hard, shoving his own jeans and underwear down to his thighs so he can grind their cocks together, sucking on Len’s tongue. And yeah, Len can definitely get behind that. But then he reaches down to squeeze Barry’s ass, to pull them closer together, and his fingers bump into something firm—

Barry’s broken whimper says it all, and Len inhales sharply, drawing back so he can turn Barry around by his shoulders. Iris is giggling, taking Barry’s face into her hands and pulling him down to kiss her so he has to brace himself on the table, bending over it, and Len…

Len has the perfect view of the base of an anal plug nestled in-between Barry’s cheeks.

“You two are killing me,” he says, aware that his voice is probably full of awe. When did they even have time for this? Has Barry just been walking around S.T.A.R. Labs all morning with the plug keeping him relaxed and open? Fuck, or in his Flash suit—Len abandons the thought immediately. That’s an idea for another day. “You got a strap-on, too, Iris?”

Her eyes twinkle when she nods, and Len curses under his breath. He experimentally pulls at the plug, sees how slick and open Barry is as his rim stretches around the toy, drawing a whine from him when he presses it back in.

“Really want me to fuck you?” he asks breathlessly, and Barry nods.

“Please, Len, just— _please._ ”

Well, who can say no to that? Iris is already handing him a small bottle of lube and another condom—really prepared for anything, aren’t they—and exchanges a heated look with him. Barry leans a little further forward, pressing kisses to Iris’s leg while she cards her hands through his hair. Len’s chest goes tight at the display, these two beautiful people, just for him.

He returns to the task at hand and carefully pulls the plug out and sets it aside before changing condoms and giving himself a few strokes, not able to rip his gaze away from Barry’s fluttering hole, begging to be filled. He licks his lips and coats his fingers with lube, stroking over his rim. Barry’s not having it, though.

“Just fucking—fuck me, I’m ready,” Barry snaps, making Len chuckle and Iris snort. A moan escapes Barry when Len pushes into him with three fingers at once, reveling in how good he feels inside, in how he rocks his ass back as if to pull them in deeper.

“As you wish,” Len says and twists his fingers before pulling them out, squirting more lube into his hand to slick himself up with. His breath catches when he presses his cock against Barry’s hole, both of them groaning when he nudges forward and the head breaches him with minor resistance.

“Fuck,” Len gasps out and grips Barry’s hips to pull him closer, pushing inside until his hips are flush with Barry’s ass. Barry’s muffling his moans against the inside of Iris’s thigh, turning appreciative when she spreads her legs and curls her hand into his hair to guide his mouth to her pussy.

She bites her lip and rocks her hips up as Len starts moving, clearly turned on by the sight of her husband getting fucked.

“Harder,” she says, voice raspy, and Barry hums in agreement.

Len doesn’t stop watching Iris when he snaps his hips forward, and she watches him right back, grinding her pussy against Barry’s tongue in tight circles, a smile pulling at her lips when Barry’s groans gain volume.

“You’re doing so well, honey,” she murmurs to him, and Len complies when another muffled _harder_ comes from Barry, pounding into him, the sounds of them fucking filling the room.

Iris cries out when she comes for the second time, letting Barry lick her through it as well as he can with how hard Len’s taking him, and suddenly he’s shaking, letting out a sob-like sound, and Len is so startled by it that he almost stops thrusting. But Barry’s clenching around him in waves, swearing loudly, and he realizes—

“Jesus, Barry,” Len rasps and slides his hand from Barry’s hip to his cock to stroke him through the aftershocks of his orgasm until he stops shuddering.

There’s a sudden lurch—Barry using his speed—and Len’s leaning back against the table with Barry on his knees in front of him, rolling off the condom and swallowing him down in one go. Len groans at the wet-hot suction, hips twitching forward, and curls a hand into Barry’s hair.

“You gonna come for us?” Iris murmurs into his ear, and Len is almost a hundred percent sure that the way she presses her breasts against his back is deliberate. “Made me ‘n Barry come so hard. So good. Look how eager he is to taste you—”

Len swears, and Barry swirls his tongue around the head and plays with his slit, stroking his shaft frantically, and just moments before it crashes over him Barry opens his mouth to let him see the head of his cock, flushed and hard, resting on his tongue. Only a few pulls later Len’s coming so hard he can feel it in his toes, his groans louder than he’d like to admit as ribbons of semen spurt into Barry’s mouth. Barry moans in encouragement and jerks him until the aftershocks fade, and Len leans back into Iris who’s pressing soft kisses to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, caressing his chest with her hands.

“I… god,” Len says, shaking his head. He’d like to know if the stars in his vision are from how intense his orgasm was or if he’s just getting old.

Barry gets up from the floor and pulls Iris into an intense kiss, his tongue deep in her mouth, and only when she lets out another moan, cupping Barry’s jaw to keep him there, is when Len realizes that he didn’t swallow. Oh, jesus _shit_.

They part and burst into laughter when they see his face. Len keeps shaking his head in disbelief and tucks himself in, buttoning up his jeans with trembling hands.

“Like I said,” he says, “you’re killing me.”

 

*

 

Cisco does a double take when they enter the cortex. Iris notices his eyes dart from Barry to Len to Iris, who might stand a little too close to each other to be taken for casual.

There’s a beat of silence.

“No,” Cisco says and points at them with a screwdriver. Caitlin looks up from a paper she was reading, a confused look on her face. “Oh, hell no. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Iris doesn’t have to look at Barry to know that the color of his face probably resembles the Flash suit. She rolls her eyes and plops down on a chair, not able to suppress a smile when Barry and Len sit down in the seats next to her.

“What’s new?” she asks Cisco. Cisco crosses his arms.

“What’s new is that there should be an anti-recreation rule in here. No _making out_ ”—Iris appreciates that he doesn’t outright say whatever word he’d rather use—“while you have actual work to do. And stuff.”

Okay, they probably deserved that. Caitlin’s still watching them like they’re a scientific experiment she doesn’t quite understand. It takes her another minute.

“ _Oh_ ,” she says and her eyes widen. She blinks at Len. Then she shrugs and turns back to her paper.

Cisco looks so put upon that it startles a laugh out of Iris and Barry snorts, and even the corners of Len’s mouth are twitching up.

“I’m just gonna… go,” Cisco says and narrows his eyes at Len, giving him an ‘I’ll be watching you’ gesture before he practically runs out of the cortex. Which may have something to do with Len not so subtly powering up his cold gun.

Iris is pretty sure she’s in love with him.

 

*

 

It’s almost surreal that night, sitting at the dining table in their loft with Len and their daughter, a ton of takeout on the table because none of them could be bothered to cook.

“So how did you come back from the Oculus? What happened?” Iris asks, jumping when she feels Barry’s hand high on her thigh. He just flashes an innocent smile at her and she rolls her eyes fondly before turning back to Len, who takes a sip of wine, gaze far away.

“Well, I’m not actually sure,” he says slowly. “Woke up in the med bay on the Waverider of all places, and the first thing the Legends did when I was conscious was lock me up.” He grins wryly at their shocked faces. Nora’s probably heard the story a hundred times, but she’s hanging onto his every word. “Turns out there was a past version of me who worked with Eobard Thawne—” Barry twitches at the name “—Damien Darhk and Malcolm Merlyn, and pretty much tried to kill all of the Legends. Took some time until they believed that I was, you know, me.”

“Christ,” Barry says, and Iris agrees. Even if Len doesn’t show it, it must have taken a toll on him—he literally died to save the rest of the Legends, and while their reaction was probably appropriate, it couldn’t have been easy for him to learn how much had happened in the meantime. How much everyone had changed. It’s no wonder he tried to turn things back to the way they were before, as soon as he came back to Central. “Why 2019?”

Len shrugs. “I asked Gideon about the best time to go back, and Sara and Mick dropped me off here with the jump ship.” There’s a hint of wistfulness in his eyes.

Iris slides her hand over his on the table, smiling when he turns it and intertwines their fingers. “I’m glad you’re here with us, now,” she says softly.

She pretends not to notice when Nora wipes her eyes, a little teary-eyed herself.

They all jump when there’s a sharp knock on the door.

“Are you expecting someone?” Barry asks Iris and she shakes her head, eyebrows furrowed.

“I’ll get it,” she says. If it’s her dad or Cecile—

She freezes when she checks the peephole. It’s not her dad. Or Cecile. Or anyone she’d even remotely expect to turn up at their door. Iris glances back at the table and takes a deep breath, cracking the door open.

“Well, hello there. I’m Lisa,” Lisa Snart says. Len makes a strangled sound behind them, and Iris can’t help but grin. She doesn’t have a choice but to let Lisa in, does she?

Lisa breezes past her into the loft and makes herself comfortable on the empty chair next to Nora, stealing her brother’s plate and cutlery and somehow managing to look like she’s been there for hours. She’s polite enough to wait until Iris sits down again to start speaking.

“So. My niece?” She laughs when Nora’s eyes widen, baffled, and reaches out to pinch her cheek. “You’re way cute. And _you_ ,” she points her fork at a very cranky looking Len. “We are gonna have words later.”

“How’d you find out?” Len sounds betrayed and relieved at the same time. Iris decides that watching the Snart siblings interact is more entertaining than television.

Lisa stuffs her mouth with chicken and noodles, chewing thoroughly before answering. Oh, she’s good.

“I knew something was fishy, so I got in contact with your estranged friend Mick—remember him?—and asked him to tell me what the hell is going on and do a little research. He said something about a Gideon?”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” Len says and crosses his arms in front of his chest, scowling at her, and a snort from Nora makes Iris and Barry laugh. Len scowls harder.

Iris can actually see Barry’s amusement dwindle when Lisa turns her eyes on him.

“The Flash, huh?” She takes a sip of Len’s wine and takes a long moment to consider him. “If you hurt my brother, Central City will have a pretty Flash gold statue.”

He swallows thickly. “Duly noted.”

In contrast to how Lisa acts toward Barry, she’s the complete opposite with Iris. “And you must be Iris. Nice to finally _properly_ meet you.”

Barry splutters and Nora just sits there with her head in her hands, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“More wine, I think,” Len says and gives his sister another withering look before getting up, making a beeline toward their kitchen, but not without tracing his fingers along Barry’s shoulder as he passes him and winking at Iris.

 

*

 

Len wakes up in a tangle of limbs and bed sheets. It takes him a moment to remember that he’s at the West-Allen residence, that he fell asleep sandwiched between the two. Nothing sexual happened the night before, which was fine by him because he’s pretty sure he isn’t made to have sex more than once in a couple of days, not anymore.

But they invited him in anyway, gave him a soft-worn Henley and a pair of pajama pants to wear to bed, and he can still feel the phantom touch of Iris’s hand curled loosely around his wrist, of Barry’s leg pressed against his before they fell asleep.

He wonders if it should scare him that he could get used to this.

He slips out of bed as quietly as possible to not wake Barry and Iris and closes the bathroom door behind him, turning the tap on to get a drink of water. Straightening up, his eyes catch on the three neatly arranged toothbrushes on the counter. So that’s his life now, apparently.

When he slinks back into the bedroom, Iris and Barry are sitting up in bed, the obvious worry on their faces turning into relief when they see Len.

Len snorts. “Relax. I’m still here.”

“Not freaking out?”

“So blunt, Ms. West-Allen,” he drawls, and she averts her eyes with a bashful smile. “But no, I’m not. Surprisingly.”

“C’mere,” Barry says, grinning at him. Len huffs but joins them on the bed, getting a kiss from Barry for his trouble. Soon he’s lying between them and Iris’s lips are on his neck and Barry’s hands are slipping under his shirt, the warmth radiating from them cocooning him in. He’d never thought that he’d feel so content with two pairs of hands undressing him and mapping out his body, two mouths kissing and licking and nibbling his skin and _oh_ , looks like his body is good to go right now after all.

“So.” Barry’s eyes are dark as he cups Len through his underwear, thumb stroking along the head. “Do you believe us now that our feelings for you are real and we’re not just trying to ‘preserve the timeline’?”

Good god. It’d be hard to answer that even if Iris wasn’t brushing kisses along the soft, sensitive parts of his hips, her hand joining Barry’s on his cock.

“You play dirty, Barry Allen,” he pants and Iris chuckles, sucking at his skin just over the waistband of his boxer-briefs. He takes a deep breath. It’d be a lie if he told them an outright yes, but…

“I guess I’m starting to.”

The smile Barry gives him is radiant.

“That’s more than good enough,” he says and finally slips his hand under the fabric, helping Iris pull his underwear down his legs. In the small part of Len’s mind that’s not busy focusing on all the sensations, on how perfect Iris feels when she takes him into her mouth, on Barry’s clever fingers slipping further down between his legs, he realizes that he truly is starting to believe them.

And for the first time in so long, Len is certain that it’s not just all downhill, from here. That there’s a future for them.

They’ll make sure of it.

 

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left comments, or kudos, or subscribed to this story, and to anyone who read it or will read it in the future ♥ It really means a lot.
> 
> [Check out the tumblr moodboard/aesthetic here :)](https://barrylen.tumblr.com/post/184162792255/essential-precautions-by-barrylen-pairing-ot3)
> 
> (***Spoilers for S5 finale*** You can also come cry with me about Nora--I know I put the 'erased from the timeline' part in here but seeing it actually happen was awful. I'll miss her!)


End file.
